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Wild Weeds Poetry Contest - Violet

Entry for our Wild Weeds Poetry Contest!

Violet Vibes

Violet vibes,

Calling out to me,

“Make love, make magic, make spells!”

Everywhere I go,

New York City, East Hampton, Shepherdstown, WV,

The heart-shaped leaves smile up at me.

“Make love, make magic, make spells!”

Invasive weed? Broadleaf herbicide, vinegar, bleach, dicamba? Really?

But I hear a message, I feel the vibes.

“Make love, make magic, make spells!”

So I do.

by Miss Joan Marie Moossy

Title: Hlin, Goddess of Consolation by Toni Rakestraw

I have always loved to draw. When I was a little girl, I drew nothing but horses. As I grew up, I developed other interests that took me away from art like music, theatre and life in general.

I married and began my family. In 2005, my husband was sweet enough to press the issue by giving me an acrylic paint kit for my birthday. I had never really painted before except sets for theatre and a sign for my aunt’s horse farm. Thus began my art career. I should have known I'd return one day, because of of the most exciting things in my life is walking through a store that sells drawing paper. I love the feel of the different textures and thicknesses of the paper. I primarily work in pencil and acrylic and continue to learn and expand my horizons on the paper.

I do create custom work for people as well as sell prints of my work.

Learn More at:
Toni Creates Art  http://tonicreatesart.wordpress.com
tonicreatesart@gmail.com

Wild Weeds Poetry Contest - Dandelion

New Entry for our Wild Weeds Poetry Contest

Spring Rhapsody

(Dandelion)

A fresh crop of fresh-cropped sunbursts
bobbing and beaming
from a grateful, green-gloved ground.
Hearty smiling waifs redeem the littered roadside.
Tidy, radiant, feathered drops of liquid smile,
 melt the menace of those jagged leaves
--jealous brothers--
 back into mother's lap,
 pinned there by sisters'
 generous  laughter.

Michou Landon

Goddess of the Fallopian Tubes & Ovaries art by Bianca Dorsey

 

"Honor the pathways and seeds of Creation within"

Bianca Dorsey
Goddess of the Fallopian Tubes & Ovaries,2010
Pencil and Charcoal on Paper
16 x 10.5 inches

Learn more about the artist at:
http://bianca.dorsey.brooklynartist.com/

Earth Mother - visualization for relaxation by Susun Weed

The heartbeat of our human mother is the first sound we are aware of.

 

Newborns’ heartbeats synchronize with their mothers’ heartbeats, even if they are in a different room.

 

In many original cultures, the newly-born babe is placed into a hollow in the earth, and reminded that human mothers are only human.

 

“Your Earth Mother will be here for you every day of your life. She will feed you, clothe you, warm you, delight you, and heal you. She loves you. Your body is made by Her and it will return to Her when you are done with it.”

 

You may wish to remind yourself that Mother Earth loves you when you put your bare feet on Her.

 

As your heartbeat synchronizes with the Earth’s heartbeat, breathe in Her love.

 

This simple visualization is deeply relaxing. It returns us to a primal state, to a time when we had no responsibilities. It fulfills unconscious hungers and heals childhood hurts. Done repeatedly, it removes addictions by filling us with the love we crave.

 

It is the love of our Mother that we seek when we drown our sorrow in alcohol, sell our soul to drugs, or mire ourselves in senseless games of chance. 

 

It allows the nervous system to reset from a place of peace and abundance.

 

It creates a solid sense of security that causes us to sigh with delight, discharging unneeded carbon dioxide from far-flung cells.

 

It encourages the diaphragm (the breathing muscle) to drop down and allows full expansion of the lungs and oxygenation of every cell.

 

Green Blessings,

Susun Weed

www.susunweed.com

www.wisewomanbookshop.com

 

 

Wild Weeds Poetry Contest - Dandelion

Entry for our Wild Weeds Poetry Contest!

 

Dandelion Kisses

 

I remember many moons ago,

Walking through the morning dew,   

Feet bare, my heart racing,

To find that dandelion globe.

Closing my eyes, blowing hard,

Making a wish.

On a dandelion kiss.

With my face to the wind,

She told me her secrets.

Now I am older,though young at heart,

I've walked the earth over.

I still close my eyes,

Make a wish and smile,

When I see a dandelion,

Swaying in the breeze,

Thinking of a little girl I once was.

 

Michelle Papp

The Kitchen Counter at Any Given Time

Miniature figurines, gnomes and fairies, porcelain and handmade, little people, copper frogs and pewter ducks, bumping into found magical stones and rough edged garnets, delicate seashells line up next to the olive bottle, now sparkling clean holding nasturtiums, zinnias - planted from seed, flaunt fuchsia and pale white - still young, hang their heads, charming tiny pumpkins harvested from the overgrown garden, two here, three over there, gourds galore - yellow and green striped adorning surfaces, cherry tomatoes - some still jade while others living on the same vine - juicy, bursting orange, candle holders cut from rose quartz and amethyst, freshly  fallen emerald acorns with small brown hats - a palette of color creates a design, a story, a dream of living, giving and dying.

by Kim Soles

 

Wild Weeds Poetry Contest

The Wild Ones In My Wee Garden

While I wander and piddle along in my wee garden each day,
There are many surprises, hidden to and fro,
I am taking time to discover the wild ones that wandered this way,
Coming across from the woods, by the river, over the fence,
by flight of feather or gusts of windy weather landing sway.
In my wee garden gently rooting, and booting another for sun they stay.
Gentle apricot blossoms, Violet shy faces, Fragile blue & yellow orchids the wild ones stay,  Red Clover & Catnip lapping at the tomatoes and peppers, pushing the sage a fray, Fireweeds spreading a warm red & purple glow,
Dandelions popping in their cheery gathering dozens in just a day,
I take time to ponder and investigate which ones shall I weed away,
for too many a time I pulled out the most beautiful wild ones,
lamenting in my wee garden, I toiled to my own dismay.
This year I am hesitant and let the wild strawberry go astray,
This year I am patient, moon blossoms crawling, wild carrots, milkweed to feed the butterfly, savored by bumblebees, moths, and ants going hastily fro, I shall not pull them, The ones I cannot name,  for I've come to enjoy them. Their discovery is now joy in my wee garden, The wild weeds and their wild ways.

by Julie Allshouse

Wild Weeds Poetry Contest

Entry for our ongoing poetry contest!

 

Velvet Key

Like a velvet key,
your whispered tales of swaying hips   

and libations
poured in honor of your sweet face

swirls into the locked and forgotten
chambers of my heart releasing the
memory of you.

And I remember......

times of undulating ripened wheat,
the pounding of olives and wine
into glistening gold and burgundy rivers.

I remember you,
the arms that always welcome me back.

Your name was forgotten- but no more.
I remember that you are the nectar and the life giving milk.
You are the protector of children.
You are the laughter in water and the glistening foam
on the waves.
You are the breeze, and the sigh in the trees.
Your face is in the wing of the butterfly and
your scent is on the jasmine and the rose.

Your name is on my lips forever Earth Mother, Goddess
May I never forget again.

Inspired by the full moon 12/3/2009
Nicole Desert Sage

Wild Weeds Poetry Contest - Dandelion

Entry for our Wild Weeds Poetry Contest!

Dandelion Woman

 

Humble weed, the dandelion.
Common, unremarkable to most.
Popping up on lawns, unwanted.

 

Nothing showy, really.
A green rosette of leafy saber tooth,
nesting demurely in spring---
At roadside, in the cracks of warming city asphalt,
dotting meadows like golden flecks on a carpet of grassy green.

 

So like women, these wondrous weeds.
Easy to overlook one or two,
yet so glorious in numbers, dazzling yellow heads
Brazen in the light, little sun-mirrors, gatherers of
energy, full of milk and laughter.

 

Oh, no gardener can prevail against such dandelion solidarity,
Yellow-headed sisters standing sentry in  the sun,
making life.

 

Then, like aging mothers, going gray
and sending ethereal offspring into the world,
lifted on the wings of wind
and the breath of human children---

 

those fluffy little dandelion babies
Going forth---
carrying on.

 

Susan Rosenberg, MD