Well, it’s clear that I couldn’t keep up with the NaPoWriMo pressure this year; a poem every day proved to be just too much for the first time since I started partaking, but I had a very good reason.
Having insufficient funds in my energy bank means I spend wisely, and all my energies were focused on spending time having that wonderful visit with an old friend.

I’m not going to jag it in though. Today’s offering is a result of seeing the broom bloom. Broom is that yellow-tipped bush in the picture. Most folks don’t like it as it’s an invasive species here, and upsets the balance of the local ecology, but I can’t help but smile when I see those cheery yellow buds come out. And, the landscape-type guy who visited last year (Hi, Will!) and sorted out the Deodara Kashmir says we don’t have enough around to really be concerned about. Conscience somewhat soothed.

Last year, I got a wonderful parcel from two back-east friends, a “happy package”. Catherine, Shelley and their mom Irma sent a collection of yellow things from hair clips to magnets to mugs, all yellow (except a beautiful purple prayer shawl), and that was very cheery indeed. I do love yellow.

Without further ado, I Am Yellow.

I am yellow, like the canary that swings and sings and tweets and twitters
I am yellow, like the tiger swallowtail that swoops and flitters

Yellow as the sun that radiates warmth to upturned faces
Yellow as the sun that lights up all the dark spaces

I am yellow, like the daffodils that welcome spring
I am yellow, like the broom that brushes winter into bin

Yellow as the sun that says hey summer’s about to start
Yellow as the sun that lets hope blossom in the heart

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