Poem: Pink – Lockdown 31

This next Lockdown Poem is far more exuberant.  I love the way the dominant colours of the garden change as the season rolls on.  We start with yellows, add blues, and by the time we get to early June it’s a festival of pink – fragrant pink at that.  I presume the different insects who are around at different times of year favour these colours and scents.  Whatever the reason, the things that seed and spread, as well as the things that are planted, do adopt a certain pallette of colours.

I hope you enjoy a brief tour.  I hope it refreshes your eyes on this grey day, especially if you are somewhere away from these changes in the natural cycle, or the view from your window is particularly damp.

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Pink  Lockdown 31

Roses, columbines, geraniums,
the arresting gladioli.
Suddenly its all pink,
and fragrant,
a boudoir from the age gone by,
a powderpuff of loveliness,

Rejoicing and loud
and with absolutely
no subtlety,
calling to that
eager hum of insects
to come, taste,
drown in sweetness.

Life.  Glorious,
singing, life.
It’s here.
It’s now.
Come, taste.

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This rose is a gift from friends.  It’s planted by the door, and called Blessings.

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