ah the language of passion flowers!
– missionaries favour figurative embodiment
a saviour’s suffering compacted into parable
for pagan eyes with foreign tongues
parting the erotic of exotic Passiflora caerulea
there the Roman’s lance, here a stigmata
an ovary secluded as holy grail
how true! but one more readily located
than a search by knight crusaders
and the crown of thorns of course is everywhere
yet even Darwin must have wondered
if a God’s enthusiasm for conundrums
was not manifested in such a creation
through the cerulean vines I hear a sonata in F minor
by a tempestuous composer with an ear for pathos
the budding artist – but how everything withers in the bud*
– with imaginary pencil traces trigeminal leaves
hung with tiny goblets to catch the bluest paint drips
and fills fruit cups with an intense golden tang
more prosaic is the gardener’s enthusiasm
considers a rampant showy climber until cutting a tendril
sees from the singularity of a stem vase
an armatured rhapsody in blue
© Laura Granby
*Gudrun’s quote from Women in Love – D. H. Lawrence
©Image @ ABSA
A botanical Tale Weaver Prompt: Passiflora cerulae
PoetryPix 
Thanks so much for sharing your response to the TW prompt Laura 🙂
I was totally drawn in and swept along (almost furiously – in an energetic sense) by the way you’ve explored this image/idea prompt.
there the Roman’s lance, here a stigmata
an ovary secluded as holy grail
if a God’s enthusiasm for conundrums
was not manifested in such a creation
What images and ideas!
And I have to admit – the second stanza has me enthralled. Totally wrapped up and caught up in the ideas you’re exploring. Wonderful 🙂
your prompt brought out a wildchild’s passion -thank you for your lovely, lovely comment ❤
my pleasure
this prosaic gardener has a granadilla growing in the garden.
In Porterville we planted six and they ATE the verandah.
love that description of its rampancy Diana – perhaps that is the truer meaning of its passion label!
The machinations of the sex lives of plants rival our own, and your poetry is in the running with the blossoms.
last line of your comment is poetry in itself – thank you!
I liked the part about the machinations of botanical sex.