POEM 16

My search for an apple, an orange and Peach colored roses still intact, proved futile, stealing an hour. I did find a perfect tangerine though, still attached to a piece of

vine, the Leaves still vivid green and waxy with life. I found  an over ripe pear, sweet pale yellow that will have to suffice. I’ll sit them there next to the Golden Mimosa

in that little Square glass jar. I love the little warped wooden plate I found. It looks so much Like an artist’s palette, absent of the thumb hole.

I thought of painting but worried, so I pondered using water colors or maybe grease paints, just to waste more time.

Capturing  that frizzy Mimosa will surely strain my talent. Those golden puffs of fragrance would not be  an easy task, but this searching has ruled my day and thwarted

my craft. This image is  surely welcome to smell and to sight, sitting, waiting, mocking me, daring me to start.