How Pretty

Lines written on observing the attitude of purple and yellow pansies, craning at the setting sun. East Kent, 15 June 2014.

How pretty is the pansy flower in June

Distilled from air like a songbird’s tune

Conjured from nothing as if too soon

Our pinprick senses to importune.

Butterfly-petals alighting where they may

Turn triumphant, to scorn the dying day

The Sun that made them, each precious ray

I too face down, in my clumsy way.

Inkblot beauties, keep your anger at bay

God-favoured we revel in Nature’s array

Apollo commands, then must we obey?

Existence is ours, we defiant do say.

So hold, and hold, your perfect bloom

As earth is your bride, you are the groom

With leaping heart, all fears I entomb

A new day will come, we weave on its loom.