Words to play with: azalea century wine disturbance skirt steal wade habit incompatible illusion
My mother grew azaleas
Some time in the last century.
She’d sit and sip a glass of wine
Ignoring the disturbance of birds up above.
Her skirts were always full,
Of flowers and native birds
She hunted the minor birds who waited to steal
Whatever they could grab.
On Tuesdays she’d wade across the ford
For her habit was to visit an aunt
Who lived a bizarre life
Incompatible with other family
But my mother was a wise old soul
And understood the illusion
Of my crazy old aunt
Whose own azalea garden my mother loved.
She taught my mum to sip wine demurely
As a lady from a clay goblet.
My mother who grew azaleas
Lived into the next century
Had her share of the oddest habits
But we loved her nevertheless.
https://therattlingbones.wordpress.com/2015/05/14/words-to-write-by-prompt-6/
Morpethroad 
Bravo! You did an amazing job with the prompt! It is rich in imagery and so beautifully written.
Thanks lori, couldn’t pass up a chance to play with words….
You’re welcome and I am so glad you did 🙂
I love azaleas, too. And the occasional glass of wine. Sipped demurely. Uh oh…
I would expect you to be demure in all things Mandy….
I love azaleas and your poem, Michael 🙂
Thank you lady lee hope you are having a good weekend.
There is a delightful feeling to this piece Michael – it flows as naturally as sitting sipping wine, watching azaleas – and I love how you have so adeptly created the images – “Her skirts were always full, / Of flowers and native birds / She hunted the minor birds who waited to steal / Whatever they could grab. ”
I adore this image – such poetic justice. 😀
Thank you Mercy. Its all about playing with words you know some days they fall in the right places…..I wish I could be more successful in growing the things though.
Well, some things will grow well, others not so much, others completely refuse – despite all our efforts. And so it is.
We can only try can’t we….