Dear Poets and Readers,
The prompt on Day Seventeen of #Na/GloPoWriMo challenges the poet to write a poem that contains the name of a specific variety of edible plant – preferably one that grows in your area.
Begin by reading Sayuri Ayers’ poem “In the Season of Pink Ladies.” Also, include at least one repeating phrase.
The poem has expired but here are some pictures of neem flowers that are in bloom at the moment.
The neem, like some other native trees of the Indian subcontinent, sheds its leaves for a brief period in spring. In early summer, new leaves emerge, followed by the most intoxicating smelling bunches of white flowers. It's an absolute joy to be around/under a neem tree in April. One can't help but dance and sing.
Neem flowers, harvested, dried and stored.
You can find out more about the neem tree by clicking on the link. Its Latin name is Azadirachta indica. It's a wonderous tree. Its leaves, bark and flowers have medicinal properties.
As always, I'd love to know what you think of this poem. Thank you for visiting.
Beatiful, Arti! "If you miss this, you'll miss everything" is my favorite line, but it's all very enchanting and makes me want to experience the same morning you are. <3
ReplyDeleteI wish you a magical morning/ day Sidra. Thank you for visiting--wish I could offer you chai -- to sit and sip under the neem tree:)
DeleteAwesome “the Neem”. I await the mulberry collection day
ReplyDeleteHopefully soon Rashmit:)
DeleteThe most intoxicating smelling bunches of white flower— what loveliness! To be in its presence would be amazing.
ReplyDeleteHere in Asia, we have the Daphnes that smell gloriously sweet and spicy, but unlike yours, all parts of daphnes are poisonous, especially the berries. But the ripe clusters of flowers give off a lovely scent.
Oh, and the sweet Osmanthus plant and Jasmin.
I love how your poem begins with bulbuls serenading you with birdsong. So they love the neem tree too. Aww.
Loved everything and knowing a little more about your world. And the lines that touched me are:
“A fully formed poem hangs
on the periphery” and,
“The mynahs insist.
The neem. The neem. The neem.
But I resist.” And,
“blossoms so small, perfume so big,
I'm bathed in her promise.” And,
“Her bark traces poetry, songs
zing my fingertips.” Lovely lines at every turn.
So lovely to read your words. Thanks for sharing your moment with me. Blessings. xoxo, Selma
Thank you for visiting and for enjoying the neem tree with me:) It gladdens my heart to read your comment.
DeleteArti, the exuberance of your verse is so intoxicating! Such a delightful write..
ReplyDeleteThank you Punam:)
DeleteA lovely poem with great use of alliterative sound, Arti, (‘Birdsong bulldozes my bedroom window’ and ‘shattering, chattering’) and other senses. I love the image of the ‘fully formed poem that ‘hangs on the periphery’, ‘autumn crunched under my feet’, and ‘Her bark traces poetry, songs zing my
ReplyDeleteThank you Kim. So happy to see the neem brought you joy, too:)
DeleteHari OM
ReplyDeleteAs one who adores neem, how could I not also adore your words in its remembrance?! YAM xx
Awww! Thank you Yamini. Hugs. xx
DeleteThe poem describes a delightful way to greet the day. We used to have a mulberry tree in our backyard when I was growing up, but no neem in Detroit. I can only imagine the fragrance.
ReplyDeleteThank you Kristin.
DeleteThe birds get to the mulberry before I do:) So, at this point in time--every exposed surface under and around the mulberry is stained purple.