Clotted mottles of burnt ember
anchor spindled legs: beige, green, bearbrown

From these spring tangled weaves in shades of
olive, speckled moss, faun tendrils
dodging one another, cat and mouse

Then triffidian horror movie monsters
crowned by iridescent tangerine, muted lavender,
or snow white as biblical innocence

First rains dribble weaker petals back to clay soil

Garden in bloom

© 2012 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil

For We Write Poems (unexpected descriptions, with thanks to the inimitable Joseph Harker for leading the way!) and ABC Wednesday, brought to you by the letter “C.” Also at my poetic garden (the one without the toads), Poets United.

NOTE: The adjective “triffidian” is made up in honor of one of my favorite sci-fi movies, “Day of the Triffids,” original story by British writer John Wyndham, about root-bound plants that suddenly become mobile after a meteor shower. The story is every bit as good as the movie, which starred Howard Keel as an American in London, one of his few non-musical roles. Read more about the story HERE. Peace and firmly rooted plants, Amy