is where dandelions and wild
flowers bloom
and where
red maple and lilacs rise to
greet the spring morning
hello yelllow!
is planted roots,
4 seasons
and city bursting & bustling
of hues, stories & languages
we're settled now
this place
we call
home!
Posted for dVerse Poets Pub- Quadrille - hosted by De Jackson. This a 44 word post with the chosen word, PLACE. Thanks for your visits and comments.
SO much gorgeousness here, Grace. All those colors. All that welcome spring. We've moved on to summer already where I am, I think, so I shall read this at least twice, and drink it all in. Thank you!
ReplyDeleteDe
Such a lovely place to be, Grace! I feel the same about here (this place).
ReplyDeleteGrace, your love for your home shines bright in your poem <3
ReplyDeleteHome is where the heart is and your heart is overflowing with all the beauty of this place you call home. Beautiful, Grace.
ReplyDeleteSo, so beautiful, Grace. It made my heart swell. A welcoming place indeed.
ReplyDeleteGreat stuff, Grace. Thanks
ReplyDeleteLovely scene
ReplyDeleteMuch♡love
I enjoyed "Hello yellow!" popping out like the wild flowers.
ReplyDeleteWhat a lovely place to be...home among dandelions, wildflowers and lilacs! Definitely a happy space, Grace :)
ReplyDeleteSuch a beautiful place!
ReplyDeleteVibrant verse. I love the mix of urban and rural in your word garden.
ReplyDeleteperfect mix of flowers and city home is where the dandelions grow
ReplyDeleteDandelions and wildflowers, I love this poem. The hello yellow speaks to me. Lovely.
ReplyDeleteAww, yes..there is that dimension we cross over when the "place" we are truly feels like "home". I love our distinct four seasons!
ReplyDeleteThis place feels like a taste of heaven. Simply beautiful, Grace.
ReplyDeleteSo beautifully full of spring and that peaceful tone of home!
ReplyDeleteThe way you said "hello yellow" reminds me of how I say "hello songbirds" every morning. Your poem made me happy.
ReplyDeleteA happy poem. Grace, thank you. Every home with heart appreciates those yellow flowers some call weeds. How beautiful the poem. Bless you. Xo. selma Martin
ReplyDelete