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Quotes about mimosa

The Dealer

He knows her weakness.
She plays to his senses;
Unremarkable accept for her habit...
Knee high in the snow drifts, she is
He welcomes her needs;
And assists in the quest for eternal sunshine;
Driven by the lowest of lows...
She seeks him out;
Between her late night lines...
And early morning Mimosa's.
He is her favorite enabler-
Her dealer-her poet-her life.

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Warmth

Yellow
mimosa grows
beneath the blue mountain,
lit by the early morning sun.
Birds sing.

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dark clouds funneling
frog leaps to the new street pond
mimosa bows low
lightning crystallizes
all movement in searing light

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When I Love

When I love
I feel that I am the king of time
I possess the earth and everything on it
and ride into the sun upon my horse.

When I love
I become liquid light
invisible to the eye
and the poems in my notebooks
become fields of mimosa and poppy.

When I love
the water gushes from my fingers
grass grows on my tongue
when I love
I become time outside all time.

When I love a woman
all the trees
run barefoot toward me…

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Sonnet XXXVII.

The poet's fancy takes from Flora's realm
Her buds and leaves to dress fictitious powers,
With the green olive shades Minerva's helm,
And give to Beauty's queen, the queen of flowers.
But what gay blossoms of luxuriant spring,
With rose, mimosa, amaranth entwined,
Shall fabled Sylphs and fairy people bring,
As a just emblem of the lovely mind?
In vain the mimic pencil tries to blend
The glowing dyes that dress the flowery race,
Scented and colour'd by a hand divine!
Ah! not less vainly would the Muse pretend,
On her weak lyre, to sing the native grace
And native goodness of a soul like thine!

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Katherine Mansfield

Sanary

Her little hot room looked over the bay
Through a stiff palisade of glinting palms,
And there she would lie in the heat of the day,
Her dark head resting upon her arms,
So quiet, so still, she did not seem
To think, to feel, or even to dream.

The shimmering, blinding web of sea
Hung from the sky, and the spider sun
With busy frightening cruelty
Crawled over the sky and spun and spun.
She could see it still when she shut her eyes,
And the little boats caught in the web like flies.

Down below at this idle hour
Nobody walked in the dust street;
A scent of a dying mimosa flower
Lay on the air, but sweet--too sweet.

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Fuji In A Saucer: The Poem

Through tannic steam I catch a glimpse of Fuji:
Against a yellow sky volcanic gold
A saucer narrows nature very strangely,
In shallow ripples lovely to behold.
The clouds, like little webs, like spider legs,
Are pierced by sun no bigger than a mote,
And bird-fish, fish-birds, flecks that will be dregs,
Spin azure topaz outlines as they float.
A tiny world with spring a world in it:
There comes an air of almonds, blare of horns,
And all the gulf if twice as large would fit
Encompassed in the hug of porcelain shores.
But now an unexpected twig - mimosa -
Has fallen where its shadow split the sky,
Just so, at times, in philosophic prose
A glint of poetry will catch the eye.

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Finale

Here is this vale of sweet abiding,
My ultimate and dulcet home,
That gently dreams above the chiding
of restless and impatient foam;
Beyond the hazards of hell weather,
The harceling of wind and sea,
With timbers morticed tight together
My old hulk havens happily.

The dawn exultantly discloses
My lawn lit with mimosa gold;
The joy of January roses
Is with me when rich lands are cold;
Serene with bells of beauty chiming,
This dream domain to be belongs,
By sweet conspiracy of rhyming,
And virtue of some idle songs.

I thank the gracious Lord of Living
Who gave me power and will to write:

[...] Read more

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Awaiting June~~~

The mourning doves run rife through the Mimosa
While a deluge of California sun beats down
Everywhere is getting acquainted with somewhere
While the bougainvillea leave their fingerprints all around;
Messengers are still a little invisible-
As many a blind eye might attest--
Windows of Springtime sunsets prevail
Surviving the mountains out west;
The in between of the seasons is nearing...
Awaiting in the trails- is the sizzling of June-
Bathing itself in warmth, a bit early, is May
Impatient for that perfect Summer Moon;
So here's to the Seasons of flowers and the shore
The woodlands and mountains so high
Spectators to the greenhouses of seasons & mighty sea
Welcoming all with a most longing sigh;
Two seasons dancing together...
Near to the riverbanks are the Pheasant and Quail
Past experience has truly taught us
That Sun and Blue Sky oft' times prevail;

[...] Read more

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Farewell to Italy

I LEAVE thee, beauteous Italy! no more
From the high terraces, at even-tide,
To look supine into thy depths of sky,
Thy golden moon between the cliff and me,
Or thy dark spires of fretted cypresses
Bordering the channel of the milky way.
Fiesole and Valdarno must be dreams
Hereafter, and my own lost Affrico
Murmur to me but in the poet’s song.
I did believe (what have I not believ’d?),
Weary with age, but unoppress’d by pain,
To close in thy soft clime my quiet day
And rest my bones in the mimosa’s shade.
Hope! Hope! few ever cherish’d thee so little;
Few are the heads thou hast so rarely rais’d;
But thou didst promise this, and all was well.
For we are fond of thinking where to lie
When every pulse hath ceas’d, when the lone heart
Can lift no aspiration—reasoning
As if the sight were unimpair’d by death,

[...] Read more

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