Welcome to Poetry Friday.  We are so close to half way through the year.  Does anyone know how to slow down time? This week Buffy at Buffy Silverman is sharing observations and thoughts about spring time.  I love her photos and what she has cerated with the word 'time'.

Summer means swapping poetry with others.  This past week, I had poetry mail from Tabatha. She has a teaser in her post for Mary Lee a couple weeks ago. Blessings. They are rather fun to write.  This blessing from Tabatha speaks to anyone cultivating words. Yesterday I started collecting the poems that have lived on my blogs since 2006 and it indeed felt like I was a standing in a poem garden,

A blessing for those who cultivate words
by Tabatha Yeatts 
for Jone
 
May the sun find your seeds 
and rain settle on your sprouts 
and may you pick the weeds
of distraction and fear 
from around your precious seedlings.
 
May you invite birds to sing 
on your branches, bees to 
circle your blossoms, and 
praying mantises to stoutly 
guard your growth.
 
May your fingers be nimble
as you stand before rows of bushes,
ripe with the fruit of your imagination.
 
May your feet tread 
gently but firmly as you walk 
the dirt paths between these overflowing bushes,
​holding your words in your hands, 
your pockets, and cradled 
in the bottom of your shirt.
 
May you find the few you need
on the sparse bush that holds words
for hard times, for times when silence
and togetherness
are most necessary.
 
May you stand before 
the one you never 
thought would bear fruit 
and feel the joyous
bewilderment 
of seeing more than you can hold.

My response:
seeds of sprouts
nimble with imagination-
your blossoms

walk dirty paths
hold words in silence
feel joyous

~jone rush macculloch, 2021 draft

Hop on over to Linda at TeacherDance. She share a surprise late snow storm and thoughts on 'time'.j

Last week, I went on a field trip to one of my favorite wineries.  I was able to photograph a single first bloom. On the weekend, I discovered busyness in the hanging planter.  It was also MudPuddle Saturday(a group of women write about twice a month), I was able to draft a couple poems based on prompts.

Winter’s scent
outside my window
questions us,When is spring?
Hummingbirds dart, sip nectar
the fairy flowers

© jone rush macculloch, 2021 draft
​
Bushtits Gather
Little partiers, the bushtits
gather at the suet block
The high scratchy calls
twitter-tweet  the location
A flash mob hangs upside down,
dining.  All are welcome.

© jone rush macculloch, 2021 draft