Florens Spirituum

White vinca blossoms

luminescent in moonlight–

flower-petal ghosts.


Copyright 2017

T. Allen Culpepper





Tendrils stretch spaceward
out of molten yellow suns
encased in coral
cups from which the insect gods
taste, satiate themselves, fly.

Copyright 2017

T. Allen Culpepper


Fantasia on a Random Sentence from a Language-Learning App

I  hear voices in the garden,

probably those crazy flowers

dispersing their seed at all hours,

thinking not once of mortal sin.

Shakespeare called it spirit’s expense,

though he referred to men, not plants,

but daisies too want into pants,

in a figured way of speaking;

the flora, too, always seeking

to take their part in nature’s dance.


Copyright 2016

T. Allen Culpepper


Flora) the Goddesse of flowres, but indede (as saith Tacitus) a famous harlot, which with the abuse of her body hauing gotten great riches, made the people of Rome her heyre: who in remembraunce of so great beneficence, appointed a yearely feste for the memoriall of her, calling her, not as she was, nor as some doe think, Andronica, but Flora: making her the Goddesse of all floures, and doing yerely to her solemne sacrifice. –Gloss on the March eclogue from Spenser’s Shepheardes Calender


A humble goddess, Flora,

rooting herself in dirt,

but hardly a modest one,

dressing in gaudy colors,

spreading her petals

for all and sundry,

present at every celebration,

willing even to comfort the sick,

always at the funerals,

though she owns no black.

Her great joy is the springtime,

when fluids begin to circulate,

her heyday the heat of summer

if the heat doesn’t dry up her business;

in the quieter autumn she stays mum,

in winter keeps to her bed.

Some have called her whore and harlot,

but she prefers the gentler courtesan,

dispenser of attainable beauty,

perishable, fleeting, but yet perennial.

Copyright 2015

T. Allen Culpepper