Cow Parsley
I walked the woods the other day
with a friend new to these silent spaces
we had little to say to one another
conversation stalled like the stones
falling when memories are no longer
strong enough to hold them tall.
What brought us together lies
under the fallen leaves of
seasons turned and time
moved on.
I hugged a stranger among the graves
an old woman, lost and confused,
helped her retrace her steps to her
mother's plot, holding her hand
like a child's, and her fear too.
My heart was touched more by her
than by the one who still pretends we
will be forever friends, while I see
beneath the drift of Queen Anne's lace,
Lady lace, fairy lace, a parting of the ways.
But not today.
Quiet through the clouds of scent,shoulders
caressed by Kecksie, Kex, we spoke of things
but had no common ground to set upon, I
spoke of life, he spoke of death.
He opened the car and offered a ride,
I declined, I'll just cut through… I turned
and breathed again
and gathered an armful of spring-time
on my wander home.
Columbine
More dove than eagle
her petals aren't that deep
purple of a child in time
and lilac is to harsh for her
soft hue.
She is demure, head bowed
but straight and tall in her
green crinoline, she standsproud, shepherding her
daughters to those further
untilled borders.
Forget-me-nots
I remember the desolation
of the first clearing of the land
lain bare, and you not yet cold.
I remember your pretty little blue
ones were first to emerge as I dared
to make things here anew.
I remember the sky, the day you went
and the telephone calls unanswered.
I remember the florist. Too late, she said
We'll not source them now. But she did,
allowing me to send you out with one last plea:
that you too, should remember me.
I remember and I wonder
what you'd make of the garden
only semi-wild…but in those flowers
I see you smile.
Clover
Sheepy-maa now along the path,
bee-bread honey stalks edging round
no kneeling for four-leaved luck.
knowing the jewel is in the crown.
White Campion
Shining stars they greet the dawn,
sweet night-scent
lingering.
The last Bluebells of the year
Party's over. The bell of the ball
is still here in her best blue - wrung out and wilting, danced-out, tilting and wondering
where everybody went – the celebrated, celebrating, ringing out the coming ofthe spring.
So soon she's done, and shrinking.
Green Alkanet
Bright blue white eyedbird's eye, bristling in
your stem and leaves,
a garden escapee.
Returning now no-one
needs your red-root dye
or even knows your name.
You come creeping back.
Buttercups
Barefoot across the meadow
where golden cups pour
dew between my toes
and I drink sunshine
through my soles.
Look to the wild growing things...and smile. Take joy in simple life. Take simple joy in life.
