Garden Party Poem by Felix Bongjoh

(For mid-night Hummingbird Hawk-moth, a special guest)

(i)

The moon has jumped
out of a dark blue night
to wave its silver and cream
rays across a garden

of a thousand colors breathing
out stars and purple specks
amid gold, ribbon, red
and violet hue streaming
in a night flying rainbows.

Winds and breezes
have been blowing
into quiet trumpets
and buzzing flutes of night
for a garden party
of mamas of all ages.

All guests of gold have been
seated near the porch.
Among those to receive
badges andmedals
are Butterfly Bush, Goldenrod,
Dandelion, Milkweed
and mooing Cow Parsnip.

See how they glow
with their gems of all shades,
sapphire and carmine
lipstick sticking out, as mascara
hangs on eyebrows
with wings of butterflies.

The most cutting but
low-humming
and buzzing instruments,
which flow and sink
smoothly into mamas' ears
are the tuba, trombone,
bassoon and horn,

but they'll be blown quietly
into guests' ears,
sodon't mangle the ears
of neighbors already sleeping.

(ii)

The party has taken off
to a cruising start,
every petal, every corolla
twisting their bright
green ears, as pink stamens

dance off their curves
in the quiet whirring wind
soft enough to allow
murmuring contrabassoons

sink into the dancing
ears ofbobbing mamas
through a smooth-flowing
breeze and zephyr.

The garden is all spiraling
colors and lime stars
jumping out from cyan
and giggling dark-blue lips,

as loud chat and fire-
cracking mouths of red
flowers whistle, rattle

and mumble into each other's
ears dancing to the rhythm
of their marching
and jumping legs in a wind

steered by hands
from a quiet firmament,
the sky spreading bright lace
and cotton hue
amid a soft rolling alabaster.

(iii)

In the garden of leaves
and petals swimming
in lights floating lights, butterflies
sail in swirling in motley
gowns, arachnids cooling it out
beneath brushy leaves.

Then amid low pops and claps
from everybody
in the swelling crowd of bright
leaves and petals,

a colorful dude in a yellow
and reddish brown attire
sails forward quietly to one
of the mamas, bows
to a neck-breaking point

on her chest, as an applause
with the voice
of a thousand rain drops on roofs
showers the crowd.

Hummingbird Hawk-moth bows,
as she flames in her bright
wings and burns
in her ashy feathers, and takes off

in a freezing silence
across the muttering garden
in a sailing breeze.