It's the beginning of my work day here in Uganda, and I'm sitting in the library with a pile of grading on the table in front of me. But before I do any of it, I have to add my line to the poem! It's been raining all night here, and as I look out the window, I can see the flag on the flagpole and the kids kicking a soccer ball in the yard.
I'm wondering if there's something slightly menacing about the party waiting for our protagonist. Oh my, indeed. The note said "Enter if you must," which isn't exactly a delighted welcome. Was the note for someone else? I don't think it's necessarily wise to just sit down and start consuming. Remember Alice in Wonderland? Remember Titania and Oberon?
Fortified with a cup of tea (Mukwano, not apple blossom, and on a table, not a mushroom), I wrote my line.
The poem so far is below, and my line is in bold at the end.
Over to you, Patricia!
Suddenly everything fell into place
like raindrops hitting soil and sinking in.
When morning first poked me, I’d wished it away
my mind in the mist, muddled, confused.
Was this a dream or reality, rousing my response?
The sun surged, urging me to join in its rising,
Rising like a crystal ball reflecting on morning dew.
I jumped out of bed, ready to explore the day.
My feet pull me outside and into the garden
Where lilies and bees weave…but wait! What’s that?
A bevy of bunnies jart and dart and play in the clover.
A dog barks and flash, the bunderstorm is over.
I breathe-brave, quiet. Like a seed,
as the day, foretold in my dream, ventured upon me.
Sunbeams guided me to the gate overgrown with wisteria
where I spotted the note tied to the gate.
As I reached the gnarled gate, pollen floated like fairy dust into my face.
Aaah Choo!
Enter, if you must. We’ve been waiting for you.
Not giving the curious note a thought, I pushed the gate open and ran through.
Stopped in my tracks, eyes wide in awe- can this really be true?
Huge mushrooms for tables, vines twined into chairs,
A flutter of fairies filled flowery teawares.
With glazed nut cakes and apple blossom tea,
I heard soft whispers from behind a tree. Oh my! They had been “waiting for me!”
Still brave, but cautious, I waited for them.
6 comments:
Ah, Ruth, my thought exactly was could those soft whispers be the nice kind or maybe something else and who is whispering. A bit of mystery remains. And your line leads us on the path to finding out! I love you were enjoying tea as you wrote. Sending hugs your way from your friend in poetry and beyond.
Janet Clare F.
Deep breath...we wait together. Who will take the next step?
(wink wink)
Here we go! Thanks for the hand-off, Ruth!
Ruth, I sense the narrator waiting in silence for what is unknown? She is brave, cautious, and curious. It's up to Patricia to bring some clarity to the adventure.
Ruth, nice job--now they are face to face, each party waiting for the other.
I love reading about you there, Ruth, and the thinking that prefaces your line. It's a wonderful ballooning of the story! (Raining here, too!)
I appreciate very much your sensitivity to the lurking unease in the beginning of the poem and in the note. This line performs an important linking thread, and does so economically. Brava, Ruth!
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