Red Chrysanthemums

Red chrysanthemums grown in a box on a windowsill;
they are the skirts that bloom beneath
your watchful eyes.
There is dirt beneath your fingertips
and dirt beneath your smile, but it is
the chrysanthemums that captivate me.

When you say,
"I will bury a letter for every seed I sowed."
I don't know what to say.

What God made is beautiful,
but less so when you claim it for your own,
and I am afraid that, when full-grown
you will wear a crown of red chrysanthemums
and dangle yourself from a windowsill

and I won't know how to get you down.

Ergo Sum Novus,

I found this poem enjoyable in its simplicity. For it being placed in Lyric Poetry, I felt that a bit of the narrative could be trimmed out such as "they are the skirts...eyes" -- while I see the suiting of this to the poem, and do like it, I don't feel as if it's doing much for us, and I would simply cut it and re-verse it.

It's a decent poem-- you did well in capturing the ray of hopelessness towards the end; good job on that. I'd like to see some of your other poetry, and mayhaps it may be interesting to see poetry of yours that's a bit elaborated.

June

I like the short-ness of your poetry. Sometimes I read poetry where I'm sure whole stanzas could be eliminated-- but this is great stuff.

EgoSumNovus wrote:What God made is beautiful,
but less so when you claim it for your own,
and I am afraid that, when full-grown
you will wear a crown of red chrysanthemums
and dangle yourself from a windowsill

and I won't know how to get you down.

That is one powerful ending. I really, really (one more really?) enjoyed this poem. I feel like I could read it several times and gleam a little something different every time, change my views a little when I look at it again.
And that, in my mind at least, is a good indicating factor of awesome poetry.

Hey there Novus, I really liked the simplicity of this poem, good job. I have a few things I'd like to point out.

Red chrysanthemums grown in a box on a windowsill;
they are the skirts that bloom beneath
your watchful eyes.
There is dirt beneath your fingertips
and dirt beneath your smile, but it is
the chrysanthemums that captivate me.

Should be-

Red chrysanthemums grown in a box on a windowsill;
they are the skirts that bloom beneath under your watchful eyes.
There is dirt beneath your fingertips
and dirt beneath your smile,
but it is the chrysanthemums that captivate me.

I agree with June and Empress about the last line. I also loved these lines "There is dirt beneath your fingertips, and dirt beneath your smile." and "What God made is beautiful, but less so when you claim it for your own."

Keep writing .