The child in the garden would watch the red sky
Naming each new cloud above passing by
How simple it looked –to fly so it seemed
No gravity limited her as she dreamed.
(Vaudeville? space) This started several days ago with Twitter prompt #42 (random Flikr image). There was a picture of a primrose. The tune is quite simple –just an old-fashioned piano with some light synth to suit the mood. It feels to me like the descendant of music I might hear watching a carnival balloon going up at a World’s Fair.
Near where I live there is a night-blooming garden that is open to the public in the summers, and there is an evening primrose in the garden. They are fascinating as their petals open at sunset and you can sit and watch them unfurl -it is absolutely magical.
Thinking of how they follow the moon, I thought about a space traveler who maybe loved these flowers who loved space as much as she, and who might take a single illicit seed as a reminder of the world she left…and what might happen if she were to crash on a world that could be open to that seed.
I guess this is my evening primrose science-fiction origin story.
(And another reason to use twinkling sounds) 😉
Primrose
_ _ _
The child in the garden would watch the red sky
Naming each new cloud above passing by
How simple it looked –to fly so it seemed
No gravity limited her as she dreamed.
La la la la la la
She danced from its bonds with a carefree glissade
Thrust into the silence where none could applaud
Dozens of worlds became hers to explore
O’re volcanoes and glaciers, she’d joyfully soar.
Fa la la la la la
She carried the seed like the secret it was,
Forbidden and precious, rarer than blood,
Encased in a vial that none would have guessed
Embedded, a garden, above her right breast.
A minuscule error, of just a degree,
Forced a final approach along a vast sea
In the shards of her craft, she lay in repose
And freed from her body was the dormant primrose.
La la la la la la
The explosion that followed lodged the seed in the ground
What happened soon after was truly profound
It sprouted and grew, its gold petals bright,
Ever seeking the moons of a far distant night.
La la la la la la
The child in the garden would watch the red sky
Naming each new cloud above passing by
How simple it looked –to fly so it seemed
No gravity limited her as she dreamed