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About the Artist:

Hi everyone, welcome to Hyacinth Hale Poetry! I am a poet who focuses on freeform and narrative poetry. I encourage you to read my poetry aloud to your friends, your family, your lovers, and even yourself. Poetry is meant to be experienced through sight, sound, emotion, through yours and the author’s imagination. Please, browse through my collections of poetry at the top of the page, and scroll down the home page for feature poems. Feel free to discuss the poetry in the comment section. Thank you for coming on my journey and experiencing my poetry with me. Don’t forget to subscribe to the newsletter for the latest posts, poems and content below!

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The Hyacinth Fields

The wind billows through the hyacinth fields as the bees make their rounds pollinating each and every bud. I arch my back stretching and taking in the view as I sit under a tree, and I feel the wind wisp my hair. I am most alive here. I am most myself. Life flows from the gentle tendrils of the hyacinth as the fog clears and the sun breaks ever so gently through the clouds. The hyacinth mothers nature caressing the hummingbird as it drinks the morning dew.

I am amused by the sheer magnetism of the hyacinth; it attracts, it repels, it dances in the wind, a many colored dervish almost as if in prayerful and careful worship. The wind carries the sweet fragrance of the hyacinth, and it envelopes me. It reminds me of reading books in the shady hyacinth fields, reminds me that even the sweetest most sensuous of life’s bounties can also be poisonous.

When I live, let me live with a hyacinth tucked behind my ear bold and delicate with unabashed beauty. When I love, let me love with hyacinth kisses soft and supple kissed over and over again like the bursting of its blooms in spring. May I never forget that love when winter comes. And when I am laid to waste, let me hold a singular hyacinth in my hands. A reminder that I am not of this world. That my decaying corpse is not the end. Let me live in the hyacinth fields where the wind billows and the fragrance flows and the hyacinth are a plenty!

*1 This poem is inspired in part by T.S. Eliot's poem "The Wasteland" from The poetryfoundation.org, https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/47311/the-waste-land.
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