# Amidst Gardenias



## apple (Apr 18, 2014)

Amidst Gardenias


Mother’s long black skirt called shroud,
covers her head to ground.
Bare feet imprint St. Augustine 
avoiding pesky pine cone thorns.
Eyes alive beneath the cloth, 
her ankles safe.
She shadow walks.


Softly and tenderly
Jesus is calling 
sticks, three nails
a rock and string.
Little girl
nests pink in the bosom 
of her dress
where heartbeat and cocoon
expresses dear.

“Little Chickababe, mmm, mmm, mmm,” she hums.

The song outside,
a child and sweet.
The dark inside, plaintive,
crying tears and points 
like nettle catching light. 

Behind the house against the wall,
her special hide-a-way. 
Secrets waft amidst 
white flowers, dark loam 
and cool retreat,
Bridges span canyons
and rivulets
hollowed with her tablespoon.

Dirt so rich and moist
packed tight around her foot,
forms sweet frog houses,
and stables for her horses.
Today, a cave is formed,
a cross is shaped.
Poor Chickababe,
transfigured, 
dyed for Easter glory,
not the yellow of baby chicks,
but pretty pink for girls.

Two days 
peeped within her clutch 
to last
inside a cardboard box.
Love and duty nails two wings
athwart a cross 
fashioned 
of sticks and string.
She crumples white flowers,
and washes the body 
in fragrance.

“Just like you, Dear Jesus.”

Little feet are kissed.
She pounds the crucifix hard 
into the ground.

Behind the house, against the wall,
amidst Gardenias, 
All is expected.


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## Bard_Daniel (Apr 18, 2014)

:O

Why didn't you submit this to a magazine?


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## apple (Apr 19, 2014)

I sometimes think my poetry is a little odd and not quite sitting on that commercial edge that many magazines prefer.  I don't submit very often.  Not sure why.

Thank you danielstj for reading.
.


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## Rivahads (Apr 20, 2014)

You should submit , however when you do have about 10 or 15 more works that will go along with it. It's a lottery


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## escorial (Apr 24, 2014)

read it a few times...love the intrigue of the juxtaposition of different types of layers to bring about a clever piece of work..nice


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## blazeofglory (Apr 25, 2014)

Mysterious, mind-blowing, searching and above all giving a classical air. I envy you. There is something in you that can entertain your readers and the world is not without poetry even in this age of digitization it seems after reading this rhythmically enticing poem. Share the source of inspiration, if you would like.


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## apple (Apr 26, 2014)

Thank you escorial and blazeofglory for reading.  Your comments are so appreciated.  I would be happy to share my inspiration .  When I was a little girl in Houston, Texas, I played dress-up with old clothes all the time.  Our house was surrounded by very large gardenia bushes and I would play behind the bushes, digging trenches and making bridges, etc.  The poem is kind of an exaggerated montage of my activities back then.  I had a wild and dramatic imagination.  The pink Easter chick part was true. It died (I think) and this is the part I'm not quite sure of to this day. It haunts me. But I did the Easter crucifix ritual with the chick and waited with all my heart and soul for it to arise.     

Thank you again,  my best, apple


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## JosephineRinaldi (Apr 30, 2014)

I agree that you need to submit this! Its so elegantly written, it brought me to tears.


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## Gumby (Apr 30, 2014)

I agree, this is a great piece, apple. The innocent faith of a child and that pure belief in resurrection, along with the sincerity of her actions, the trying so hard to make it holy as she understands it to be. It's very touching and I'm not ashamed to admit that it moved me to a few tears, myself. Thank you for sharing this.

P.S. I must be a little 'odd', too, as I always get your stuff.


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## apple (May 1, 2014)

Thank you Josephine and Gumby.  I loved who I was as a child.  As old as I am now, it is comforting to know that in spite of all my complaining, losses, aches and pains that I can always visualize hope.  I know, Gumby. You are "odd".  Thank you for always helping me interpret myself.


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## Firemajic (May 1, 2014)

This is enchanting...But--call me crazy,amid the innocence, to me -- there is a dark undertow...With your first 3 lines--I was hooked.
Thank you for sharing. Peace...Jul


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