Build me up Buttercup!

The legendary Sylvia Plath is the focus of our penultimate poetry prompt. Choosing one of her inspiring poems from the Plath Poetry Project’s Calendar, we are to own our poetic offering which responds to or engages with the original. Feeling full of late Spring, I was drawn to Plath’s “Poppies in July” (featured below) and got carried away with the buttercups which have spread like wildfire here in recent weeks.

Buttercup Banks

Long and thin your tender stalks

Upturned your yellow heads

As I pass by you on my walk

To your cute cups I’m led

Uncanny how in recent weeks

Your shoots have multiplied

Your long necks elegant and sleek

As you shine side by side

The dandelions now fluffy tops

Their wilting leaves look dry

But your growth spurt cannot be stopped

Your butter melts my eyes

And my soul feeds on your wild seeds

You long, light pick-me-ups

How dare they ever call you weeds!

Bright banks of buttercups

Poppies in July – Sylvia Plath

Little poppies, little hell flames,

Do you do no harm?

You flicker.  I cannot touch you.

I put my hands among the flames.  Nothing burns

And it exhausts me to watch you

Flickering like that, wrinkly and clear red, like the skin of a mouth.

A mouth just bloodied.

Little bloody skirts!

There are fumes I cannot touch.

Where are your opiates, your nauseous capsules?

If I could bleed, or sleep! –

If my mouth could marry a hurt like that!

Or your liquors seep to me, in this glass capsule,

Dulling and stilling.

But colorless.  Colorless.


4 thoughts on “Build me up Buttercup!

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