Member Poem

Was it in the fragrance of the grapefruit mint
that brushed against my red blush cheeks,
or those lilac petal chains on
moss-strewn pathways,
was it in those rays that dance
sequentially across some green flake grecian urn,
or the tearful noonday noodle from a seagull’s
stricken cry,
or that scarlet robin roosting on a grey
grain granite wall?
For whatever reason nature’s vivid ministry appeared in locust swarms,
a tag on aural stimuli to whet one’s dormant vision.
Suddenly the golden brook within my compass 
bared its fountain,
each moonstone mountain peak its beacon light,
the twig on every tree revealed an olive branch
with verdant august wellspring at its cusp.
Each sprouting plant became this silver chalice rooted
in a centrifugal aliment.
When morning shoots at last boldly ripen
ironic winter phase
blackberries loom above mundane detachment
as cold snap iridescence thatnormally
eludes quotidian tides

Top four placement in Poetry Soup contest.
A featured poem on Poetry Soup March 13th to
March 20th year 2022