Natural Beauty

All Poems, Environment/Mother Earth, For Children, Gardens, Hope, Natural Beauty

Something You Don’t Expect

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Do you ever stumble upon something you don’t expect?

Growing in a place you find strange?

From time to time, I do.

A single viola blooming between asphalt and curb.

A lone hosta in a bed of hydrangeas.

Hairy crabweed poking through sewer grates.

Broad-leaved helleborine smack in the middle of a lawn.

A cabbage stalk in a pot of basil.

Toadstools, all shapes, colors, popping up on hillsides, in gardens.

All little reminders of strength, resiliency.

Finding a place in a big world.

To settle, dream.

What would happen if vegetation could grow anywhere?

Mowing, manicuring, banished?

Like in the field in front of Morris Arboretum.

Where Rubus blackberries, comfrey, irises grow wild.

Tall, confident, unabashed.

Drawing all manner of birds, insects.

Spectators, oglers like me.

Stopping to stare, give praise.

Unsheared meadow, majesty.

 

Lynn Benjamin

May 21, 2024

  

All Poems, Birth, Death, For Children, Natural Beauty, Trees

How Often Do You Get to Watch?

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How often do you get to watch blossoms fall from a favored tree?

In slow motion?

Gliding in graceful pirouettes toward the ground?

Lavender lanterns from the Empress.

Alighting on path, fence, forest floor.

Right behind the house.

To whistles, chirps, trills.

From robins, wrens, catbirds.

Funeral melodies.

In an otherwise silent scene.

Behind the kitchen where I awaited April flowers.

Longed for them.

To burst from golden velvet buds.

Disperse honeyed perfumes.

Through each window, door.

There, I witnessed renewal, birth.

Only weeks later, letting go, dying.

Life span brief.

Though every day lived, lusty.

Existence, elegant.

Adored for aromas, delicate shape.

Color, easy on the eyes.

Blessed am I to sit with you

at your mid-May demise.

 

Lynn Benjamin

May 19, 2024

All Poems, For Children, Natural Beauty, Seasons, Stories

May Winds

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May winds are warm, but strong.

Knocking down empress, tulip poplar blossoms.

Linden leaves, florets.

Maple whirly wigs, pinecones.

Spreading mushroom spores.

Pushing a yellow balloon across a parking lot.

Mother Nature’s breath.

Diffusing floral aromas.

Upon gusty waves.

Riotous colors, smells.

Swirling about.

Whistles, chirps, trills making melodies.

From high up in trees.

Concert for squirrels, chipmunks, me.

Whooshing zephyrs, songs.

Till I seek intermission.

Blown into the kitchen.

To sit, find tranquility.

Before racing out again.

My eye catches three peace lily blooms,

when I thought there only one.

Silent miracle unfolding.

I, by stillness, overcome.

Lynn Benjamin

May 18, 2024

All Poems, Animals/Insects, For Children, Hope, Natural Beauty, Pennypack Park, Plants, Sounds

Noises

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Where do you go?

When noises overwhelm?

Leaf blowers roar?

Wood-chippers whir?

Asphalt pavers rumble?

Newscasters argue?

Well, not far away is a quiet walkway.

Along Pennypack Creek.

Path with emerald canopy.

Tempting floral surprises.

Irises, fleabanes, buttercup figs, violet dames.

Riotous bouquets adorning each side.

Roses, empress blooms, honeysuckles.

Fragrance diffusers.

Geese idly sitting, watching passersby.

Gray catbirds flitting about.

Caterpillars inching along.

Here’s a place you can move.

March legs, swing arms.

Listen to the pat pad of your footfalls.

Watch blossoms whirl down.

Bathe in nature’s perfumes,

cleanse your lungs, your soul.

Breath sweetened by breezes.

Renewed, intact, whole.

Lynn Benjamin

May 16, 2024

All Poems, Art/Arts, For Children, Gardens, Natural Beauty, Seasons

Irises

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May is the month for irises to parade.

Some call them flags, others, bearded flowers.

To me, neither.

Rather, flamboyant dancers.

Wearing skirts, hats.

Standing in chorus lines.

Ready to leap onto the stage.

Spinning, twirling, kicking feet.

In all their finery, feathers.

Blues, purples, pastels.

Often, multicolored.

Each sighting, new surprise for the eyes.

Voluptuous, sensuous.

Diffusing light perfume.

Luring bees and me.

Wishing I could touch their costumes.

Like I might a silk or brocade.

But, instead, I stand back.

Nature’s art, admire.

Like I would Van Gogh’s painting,

letting grace inspire.

Lynn Benjamin

May 12, 2024

All Poems, Animals/Insects, For Children, Natural Beauty, Plants, Pleasure

Mist

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The day arose in mist.

Moist with puddles from last night’s showers.

Air pure, crisp.

Choruses of cardinals, robins, sparrows.

Whistling, trilling, chirping.

In cosmic harmony.

From high in lindens, maples, oaks.

Goslings in a bundle, keeping warm.

Creamy autumn olive flowers carpeting the ground.

Knocked down by rain.

Maple whirly wigs strewn in piles.

Ready to reproduce themselves.

All good omens.

For a day of joy.

Sandwiched between an eightieth birthday party yesterday.

A gathering of friends tomorrow.

The kind of morning that animates.

No matter cloudy skies.

Little celebrations.

For nostrils, ears and eyes.

 

Lynn Benjamin

May 8, 2024

Aging, All Poems, For Children, Gardens, Natural Beauty, Stories, Thank-You

Daily Constitutionals

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On daily constitutionals, we pass the house of Barbara.

Eighty-nine-year-old neighbor.

Living alone, tending an eye-catching garden.

Full of impatiens, zinnias, begonias.

She, the gardener, seated in a chair.

Bent over trowel, digging.

Organizing bushes, flowers to beautify the neighborhood.

Seeing her, we approached.

Listened to her describe her finished deck.

Six railing boxes, a palm tree, hibiscus plant.

But, then she moaned, I’m having trouble walking.

Whereupon, Bob noticed one of her begonias fallen awry.

Roots out of the soil.

Lying on its stem.

So, he offered to re-plant it.

Taking her trowel.

Righting it.

Covering the roots.

Her gratitude, enormous,

waves repeating in the sea.

There she sat upon her throne,

sowing visual poetry.

 

Lynn Benjamin

May 4, 2024

 

All Poems, Change, Holidays, Natural Beauty, Passover, Seasons

Empress Tree

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The Empress tree heralds the end of Passover.

Bursting into lavender bells.

Suffusing breezes with sweet fragrances.

Wafting toward the porch, through the door.

Permeating the kitchen with aromas.

Sweeping away the holiday.

Last crumbs of matzah.

Seder plate.

Haggadahs.

Into annual hibernation.

As soft petals lure us deeper into Spring.

The merry month of May.

From order to abandon.

Maple whirly wigs swirling down like rain.

Pollen patinas blanketing outside doors, tables.

Seeds sprouting in chaotic patches.

Ferns unfurling leafy curls.

The scent of fertility, attraction in the air.

Coupling, mating, pairing

under ringing Empress blooms.

Branches swinging, scattering

irresistible perfumes.

 

Lynn Benjamin

May 3, 2024

All Poems, Family, Gardens, Grandchildren, Growth, Natural Beauty, Passover, Plants

Foray to Morris Arboretum

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Our last foray to Morris Arboretum.

A month ago, on Easter.

Jammed with visitors seeking renewal.

Today, the end of Pesach, we took Elias.

Almost eleven.

To witness the season accelerating.

Lilacs, viburnums, camellias.

All in floral glory.

Aromas to match.

While fields of tulips swept us to Holland.

Azaleas clustered thick as strawberry taffy.

Yellow ragworts, white stars of Bethlehem, fleabanes.

All populated banks, hillsides.

It was Monday.

Few people roamed the paths.

Leaving the park’s majesty to us.

Empty trails, bridges, lawns.

A quiet afternoon.

Just before our grandson’s return to Manhattan.

Munificent, spontaneous matinee.

Natural delights, great, small.

Riots of color, smell.

Bounteous curtain call.

All bidding him farewell.

 

Lynn Benjamin

May 1, 2024

 

 

 

 

All Poems, Animals/Insects, For Children, Natural Beauty, Pleasure

Perfect Day for Turtles

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The afternoon, bright, sunny.

On our return from Water Mill.

For sure, chillier there.

But, here, glorious spring.

Precious gift from Mother Earth.

Along with pink petal carpets.

Popping azalea buds.

Bouquets of white viburnums.

All April surprises meeting us upon return.

Along with baby geese, plumper, more vital.

Croaking frogs, fatter, slimier.

Turtles lined up along a ramp.

Absorbing warmth and calm.

Offering it, too.

A perfect day for turtles!

As Bob and I stopped to stare

at a large one, her company

in motionless stability,

extending us tranquility.

 

Lynn Benjamin

May 1, 2024