Wildflowers in our garden
whilst not a meadow are
nonetheless quite lovely
if not spectacular
From little tiny daisies
to blue and purple there
with bright red in the background
there's little to compare
On April seven a flower bloomed
as another faded still
falling silently asleep
Gently passing til
with spreading wide of petals
and yellow for the Spring
The one that bloomed to passing
stood with angels there to sing
A patch of wild flowers growing
in the churchyard yesterday
Reminded me that summer
wasn’t all that far away
And yes, I know it’s over
by the chill that’s in the air
Felt now come the mornings
seen by coats worn everywhere
On the breath of a morning
I caught in the air
a lingering fragrance
subtle and rare
A remnant of summer
to cherish and hold
and remain with me as
the autumn turns gold
I was inspired by The Orchid Pavilion gathering of 353 CE which was a cultural and poetic event during the Six dynasties era, in China. The gentlemen (42 literati) had engaged in a drinking contest: rice-wine cups were floated down a small winding creek as the men sat along its banks; whenever a cup stopped, the man closest to the cup was required to empty it and write a poem. This was known as “floating goblets”. In the end, twenty-six of the participants composed thirty-seven poems.
Wife, as my life fades with the closing
sun, weeds now overtake linen paths driven
into the wilderness,
I have no strength to fight them,
and soon you must walk this way alone
though my heart is warm still –
The beds were full of yellow dahlias
in the churchyard yesterday
Looking lovely in the sunshine
as we paused along the way
We sat and had a coffee
and admired the glorious scene
Quite the most attractive
for a while that there has been
Pushing up with vigour
bright in winter beds
Cyclamen bring colour
raising pretty heads
And I’ll never have the words
to exemplify this spread
So here’s a picture of them
which I bring to you instead
Poet's Corner 