Lisa is hosting dVerse and she has given us an interesting challenge. We were asked to pick one of our favorite poems, by another poet, and flip the meaning. We are to include both the original poem as well as our flipped poem.
I have chosen The Seed-Shop by Muriel Stuart. I love her optimism, the potential she sees in a handful of dried up seeds.
by Muriel Stuart
HERE in a quiet and dusty room they lie,
Faded as crumbled stone and shifting sand,
Forlorn as ashes, shrivelled, scentless, dry -
Meadows and gardens running through my hand.
Dead that shall quicken at the voice of spring,
Sleepers to wake beneath June’s tempest kiss;
Though birds pass over, unremembering,
And no bee find here roses that were his.
In this brown husk a dale of hawthorn dreams;
A cedar in this narrow cell is thrust
That shall drink deeply at a century’s streams;
These lilies shall make summer on my dust.
Here in their safe and simple house of death,
Sealed in their shells, a million roses leap;
Here I can stir a garden with my breath,
And in my hand a forest lies asleep.
Here is my flipped version of the poem:
A Meadow Concealed
Yonder the melodic meadow stands inviting;
Bright reflecting sun, flowing like waves
United freckles, fragrant, fresh, striking -
Seeds and bulbs lay before my feet.
Alive's the land for summer's golden whisper;
Not to be held with November's chilled embrace.
Bunnies hop through - remembering.
Hummingbirds seek blossoms of new.
At the edge, maples grow tall, shade reaching;
Where oaks are found thick and robust.
Thirsty they will grow with the brooke's freezing,
And those wildflowers will bend at Jack's will.
There in the open, unsheltered life ensnared,
Exposed in their beauty, hundreds of petals drop
One cannot stop the shed of color,
As upon our feet a trail of seeds fall.
Bonus challenge questions: Lisa asks, “how did it feel to flip the script? Are you happy with how it turned out?”
I found this to be a fun challenge. In Muriel Stuart’s poem, there is a lot of words related to death. So in my flipped poem there are more words related to life and beauty. However, the overall message that is painted through Stuart’s poem is full of hope for the future. Whereas, mine has the “pretty” words but the message is a sad one.
Artwork: Claude Monet’s En Paysage dans l’île Saint-Martin, 1881
Let me know what you think.
Thanks for stopping by. I hope you have a wonderful day.
With a grateful heart,