NaPoWriMo #12 - Secret Code

Daylilies

I sit in my mushroom throne

surrounded by daylily courtesans.

They'll only last a day

and then I'll be tired of them

and their constant simpering.

But they can't really help themselves.

Flowers are the sex of plants, after all.

Soft petals, wet with nectar,

chasing after bees,

who are already pledged to another.

How lewd! How common!

It's no wonder I can only

tolerate them for a day

before wishing them gone!

But so long as it is summer,

there will always be more daylilies.

NaPoWriMo #8 - Unusual Love Connections

The five metaphors I ended up coming up with were indian summer, day lily, crocus, first frost and ice cream. I ended up writing about a crocus.


The First Flower

A crocus
pushed its way through the ice
accumulated over months of bitter cold.

He appeared overnight,
a spot of vibrance in the endless white.
Maybe he always existed
under the snow,
and I failed to notice him
before he bloomed.

He was the first flower.
Unexpected. Beautiful.
Short lived.

By the time the insects began to chirp
he was gone.
Leaving behind only a clump of crinkled brown
to prove that he had existed.