Tremulous iris grows on rigid spines,
Translucence vibrant, bouquet of champagne,
Morning sun smiles, raptured by skirted lines;
Gentle-natured vision, rebirthed, again.

Rain-beaten iris stands tall and alone,
Effervescent weather takes in its toll.
Afternoon’s clouds seem to cry to atone,
Soft sound the sighs of essences now null.

Dew-sparkled iris, I bow to your Life,
Fortuitous meeting, I’ve need of peace.
Yester’ blooms melted, my World, full of strife,
Flood me in bubbles, I yearn for surcease.

Iris, my iris, gather up your bloom,
Decant my anguish into Nature’s womb.

Erin Elizabeth Kelly-Moen
Photo by Erin Elizabeth Kelly-Moen
© Copyright 4/7/04