In Praise of the Potato Pollinator

 

I've been writing a lot of poetry this year. Apparently, once I stopped writing articles and columns, a vein of creative writing opened up. Interesting... and enjoyable. 

It means that every ponder, every phrase, every word has the potential to form a poem. Like the following, formed just as the dog and I were a couple of hundred metres from home at the end of our walk this morning. 

It started with a title -- In Praise of Bumblebees -- followed by the first line -- Dear Bumble --

By the time I fed the pets and sat down with my first cup of coffee, the poem's opening lines had wandered off but I just started writing. Normally, my poetry is spiritual, and serious, so it was nice to write something fun. 

I don't have a photo of a bumblebee at a dandelion but this photo of mine, of the fireweed in late August, shows the bumblebee in flight which is very cool. 

IN PRAISE OF THE POTATO POLLINATOR
 
Dear bumblebee
dear large body
dear small wings
dear mystery
 
how you fly
how you lift
what looks bulky and cumbersome
with those papyrean wings
paper and weight
 
as if there is a lightness
inside you
a sense of divine purpose
that levitates you and propels you
forward
into the flowering world
even though that flight
seems impossible
 
It is a miracle
every day
commonplace
ordinary
yet so
extra ordinary
 
for you
king of the dandelions
fuzzy lion of all the flying insects
you
are the great agricultural pollinator
the one who gives us
tomatoes and peppers
blueberries and strawberries
 
the only one who pollinates potatoes
 
without you
dear bumblebee
dear flying mystery masterpiece
dear miracle
 
we would not have
French-fried potatoes
 
So we thank you
dear bumblebee
for the miracle of
turning potatoes
into
fries

~ Sara Jewell