Spring Daisy Jones… Character study #2

SPRING…So it is, even without the green and bloom we’re all eager for.  The pattern of the seasons says so.  The day light settles between the Winter and Summer Solstice.  Persephone will walk the land giving of her verdant gifts.  Blooms Are on the way…




Spring Daisy Jones

She wore her name well, held to the day of her birth

when the pattern of the season gives it’s light just right

and the good bye to the cold and chill makes it’s stand.

The only child from the womb of Violet Jones, who was

long passed the age of birthing when love found her ready.


A red hair child born on the first day of Spring 63 years ago.

Hard to know if her Momma’s flourish for dressing her

All in soft greens, with hand made flowers pinned to her

dresses stuck to her for a life time, or being a child of the

60’s, when hippydom held her to the cause of Peace and Love,

Forever a Flower child with a treasure chest full of hand made

flower pins, and fragile wreaths made from garden blooms for her hair.


Her coffin is wide open.  She lays on a bed of moss green velvet.

With that treasure chest of faded flowers filling the spaces around her

I pass, looking down at her alabaster face still holding kindness

And years of good living ready to rest into the body of the Earth.

A wreath of fresh flowers crowns her faded red curls.

Her folded hands hold a peace sign and a heart.

John Lennon’s music plays in the background and I cry.


Spring  was every season of her life, ever a give of her blossoms

A living bouquet of a life ever in bloom and greening.

She came home to die, to be with her family, her old friends.

To wrap her memories around us, to pin us with her flowers,

Hug us with her Love.  To remind us to always give Peace a chance.





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Peace took a tumble in the morning

After months of making a presence

For public consumption, situated

Calmly against the window pane,

Pointing South, Peace took a dive.

A hard hit to the wood floor.


The slam crack was startling

Loud in fact, like it wanted

My attention right then and there

Which I didn’t have to give. I was busy

Unraveling my mind in cyberspace.

Where peace is hard pressed to be found


I dismissed the clamor, the strike hit

To the floor.  A cursory glance, a nod.

Probably my cat slam dunking his toy

Over there somewhere by the window.

Not to worry, not to be bothered.

Peace was the least of my worries


In the later on with it all forgotten

A passing glance catches the lean

Of Peace against the wall on the floor.

I think to pick it up, relocate the peace.

I don’t.  I leave it there.  It’s still there

Making peace with my foundation.


That seems about right in the peace

Of things.  That makes for the unity

Of wall to floor in a flip flop off

The window,calling out for a better

Place to be for awhile till I hear it

Call out to me to give peace a new place.


It will call me out for relocation

Thank God I tattooed it on my wrist

Long ago just in case Peace crashed

Somewhere and I could still have it

With me no matter where or what

Peace decided to do to get some attention.


Peace is like that.  It needs to be seen,

Heard, felt, experienced.  It wants

A Chance to fill you up and call you

Out of your revery off the window pane

On to your floor in case you forgot

That Peace and love are the answers




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Good morning… a little sippy the coffee.  AAAHHH…  Here we are on Martin Luther King Jr. day, tho’ I honored him in poetry yesterday, I give his spirit a wave and hold each day to the dream of human compassion and the spread of kindness with peace everywhere and in everything.


If peace isn’t in my heart

Will it find itself in my home

At my work, in my garden

With my friends, my family?

Will it find itself at the edges

And corners and center of me?

Is there Peace in the stories I tell

Of me and other, and them, and that

As I share my days,  my hours

My moments in chattered exchange?

Has Peace found me amidst the

Sad, the lonely, the grief, the despair,

The lost, the wretched, the ugly, 

The stupid, the idiots, the killers,

The rapists, the politicians, the dark evil?

Is Peace only selected for some things

And not those other ‘things’ that

Batter my edges and center and

Places of discomfort and anger?

If I can’t find Peace within all that

Do I really ‘give Peace a chance?’

Am I a Peace generator or lazy

In my peace, giving when it’s convenient, 

Or pretty, or easy, or a sweet puppy,

Or sad friend, or where my heart string

Gets pulled and I’m all soft and tender?

What when Peace is hard to give?

Can I give it then?  

Can you join me in giving it then?

Can we give ‘Peace a chance’?

 ~~~~    4    ~~~~


16 jan 2012  >    13/4/0    >    Death/Emperor/Fool


  The stages of ‘4’; of matter, of structure,  of order…..Formless, Form, transform. again

What in your life feels formless and needs either transformation or a plan to bring it to order?

Isn’t it about time you took a leap of faith?

Can you trust that a mistake is you being highly creative and you can try again?



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