Yard Sale of Thoughts

My first colony,
my Jamestown weed.
He stirs the stew
when he sees me coming:
one if by land,
two if by my own
imaginings.

He waves a devilish scepter,
a trumpet in greeting, and
I resist (intoxication)
his tranquilizing power,
refuse to feed on 
his demonic seed, resist
the euphoria before me.

Pinwheel flower,
eyelids d
                r
                  o
                    o
                      p
I'm hypnotized,
blowing feathers
from his forehead,
kissing my companions,
grinning, spinning,
a sedated monkey.

Day and night 
I'm lost in stupor.
Numb, 
dying,
as the palisade walls
catch fire. 

©2023 | K. Hartless

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If you’re interested in the legend on the name “Jamestown Weed,” you can read all about it here.

GloPoWriMo#25 Today’s prompt challenges you to also write a love poem, one that names at least one flower, contains one parenthetical statement, and in which at least some lines break in unusual places.