Forget-me-nots

By Tim Ellis

All around the edges of my borders
grow tiny flowers whose jollity makes me cry.
Liberal-minded herbs resisting cordon,
their tone reflects the freedom of clear skies.
Cushioned up together, these soft droves
transpose my garden to a sea of blue.
Their seed-heads must get carried in my clothes
as all my clients’ gardens have them too.
In this grief of social isolation
I’m hoping every place I’ve been, I may
by fortune have bequeathed some consolation:
disseminated tiny flowers to say
in language not dependent on translation
“Forget me not, although I’m far away.”

Tim Ellis lives in Harrogate, North Yorkshire, where he runs a gardening business and a poetry open mic. He is fascinated by wildlife, especially birds. website http://www.birdbard.co.uk

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shan
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shan
29 days ago

Love that poem Tim. I feel the same about forget-me -nots, but could never have articulated it like you do!

Tara Shannon
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Tara Shannon
1 month ago

Lovely

Tim
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Tim
1 month ago
Reply to  Tara Shannon

Thanks Tara.

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