Saturday, March 3, 2018

Heather Jephcott writes



A Little Girl (A rambling garden poem)

I think a little girl
is picking my flowers.
I will not say she's stealing
because
she and I
are friends.

I looked for the flowers
today
I'd seen them
yesterday
happy
standing up on the bush
but today
they were
all gone.

Yes, I think this little girl
is picking my flowers,
particular ones
that die quickly
not long after
being taken away
from the bush,
cut off from their
only possible home.

Now, one day
I think I will need to teach
this little girl
that some flowers
are for picking
and enjoying inside
while others
lose their beauty
as soon as they leave home.

I remember rather clearly
the same lesson
when I was young.
It made me sad
because I loved azaleas
and the wealth of varieties
just below our kitchen window
but I was told
and did discover too
that they did not live long
away from their bush home.

I also remember a difference
my father liked flowers
out in the garden
my mother loved to have cut flowers
both specialized in beauty, splendour,
creating and designing.

Perhaps I am a bit of them both.
Image result for girl picking azaleas painting
Picking wild flowers in a meadow -- Alexander Averin

No comments:

Post a Comment

Join the conversation! What is your reaction to the post?