Waxy Planes And Ship Poem by Felix Bongjoh

(i)

Sitting in the patio,
I peek at
the curves
and birdy wings
of narrow
and broad green leaves.

A wavy spray,
this juniper
vitreous rows of life
in the garden,

stretch to shamrock
and seaweed
hedges and shrubs,

their leaves
rolling waves
under a breezy sun.

Rays of drizzling
sun polish
and glaze moss
and parakeet leaves.

They shine emerald
palmate leaves
and lace-leaf plants

into floating
ripples of dark
greenish swells

and leafy waves,
an undulating
sea of tall
pinnate and short
palmate leaves
unfolding, unfolding.

(ii)

Down the stretch,
flowers rise
like yellow, red
and indigo lights

swinging
in the crooning,
rattling wind
bulbs of tulips

and loud headlamps
of gold hibiscus
carving out

the ripples and soft
flow of plants,
a low tide of sea.

With a large-eyed sun,
waves of leaves
unfold gleaming leaves
and flowers

carrying bees
and hummingbirds
flowering
with spinning winds

green decks
of palmate leaves

spreading out
arms for landing
albatross planes
of wing-swelled moths.

(iii)

On a frothy shore
of orchids
rolling close to the patio,
soft waves

of a green sea
drift in a ship hooting
in a gust of wind,

as a landed
butterfly drifts in
to settle on
waves and ripples
of leaves.

On its abdomen
inches below the sea surface
of bowing leaves,

it raises its closed wings
into the stiff sails
of a drifting ship

setting sail for goldenrod
stretches of flowers
hurled off beyond

spots of burning
fire gingers lighting
up the ship's path
until it melts out of view.