Artwork and Writings of Irene Tobias Rodriguez

Archive for November, 2011

Grapevine Wreath

Oh grapevine,
      twisted and bent
Woven into a circle –
      sort of,
Reaching up
      over and above
Past the boundaries
      with love.

A few tendrils
      scattered about
Circled around
      in a spiral,
Just like us
      reaching out
For something
      to hold viral.

Adorned with feathers
      fluffy and soft
Lost by a bird
Beautiful colors
      delicate design
Painted by God
      with care.

Pieces of wood
      weathered and worn
Tossed around
      by the lake
Grayed and smooth
      float from afar
How long
      did it take?

Buckeyes rounded
      Shed from their shell
No longer spinney
      but smooth
Touch the dark seed
      hold in your hand
Good for the soul
      to soothe.

Acorns small
      Seeds with hats
Randomly dropped
      from a tree
Will not all sprout
      they lay on the ground
Waiting for someone
       like me.

The final touch,
      white and pearly,
Tossed by the water
      a broken shell.
Where it came from,
      where it’s been,
I don’t know,
      I cannot tell.

Pillars of Smoke

Around the corner
trees appeared out of the fog
like Pillars of smoke

Delicate Pink Velvet Stars


The vine grows.
          dark green shinny leaves it bears
Reaching upward,
toward the ceiling of the room it shares.
It droops,
          then hangs from the weight of the leaves.
Another vine grows
          and stretches toward the light it sees.
Years you lie dormant
          hidden within the plant somewhere
          waiting to see, will anyone care?
Suddenly you appear
          As if from nowhere, you send out
A cluster of tiny buds.
          You’re starting to bloom, without a doubt!
I can’t contain
          the excitement of seeing you grow.
And then another.
          I am blessed by the coming show.
Slowly you grow
          larger and larger expanding.
Your petals open:
          delicate tiny stars,
          soft pink velvet,
          tinier star center – looking like wax,
Held together in a bouquet
hanging down. Attention demanding!
I can smell
          your distinct fragrance as it floats through the room.
I can tell
from a distance you are in full bloom.

After a while
you wither and die and fall to the floor too soon.
You leave behind a stub for the next time to bloom.

The vine grows.

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