Morning Glory She let me add Those trumpets opened, The morning glories were I hated the red I loved the delicate flowers I liked the blues, asked Every morning is like her: But she was too dainty to I should have —Douglas Gilbert
a climbing vine
to her garden.
the blue flowers
in my every morning,
that yet still, today,
cry for sun.
twisted around the fence –
the blue flowers were
our only compromise, because
crinkly marigolds
or whatever
the easy hardy ones were.
I hated the woody geraniums –
too tough.
like her.
if we could plant a morning glory
as beautiful as her.
beautiful and elegant
blue climbing
climb higher that mortal trellis,
live longer than
a twist of fate.
grown her with thorns
prickly but strong,
made her an immortal rose, but
I could not.
Order "The Xyiwa Poets" by Douglas Gilbert by clicking on photo
Paperback book of poetry by Douglas Gilbert. 322 pages, 192 poems.
Douglas Gilbert lived most of his life in a cave, except for a brief period of time in the 1960′s when his spiritual leader and guru, Utcoozhoo, made him join the Xyiwa Poets to provide them with disinformation, because they were in danger of finding one of the secret entrances to the sacred ancient caves. The Xyiwa Poets were a naïve bunch of hippies led by Ziohat who drilled into a rock formation just above the holy chambers so they could have a cave to party in. Ironically, though not in the original founding group, Doug has become the last of the Xyiwa poets. Most of Doug’s poems have been preserved, but just a few of the others’ poems remain.
