“Nor will I then thy modest grace forget” (Wordsworth)
raindrops on snowdrops
late February after the melt
where Marjorie, beloved sister
always missed, resides perpetually
in peace, in Latin script
milk flower coverings
modest sprays that naturalise
with splendid vigour; vital signs
of the ever recurring year
to a graveyard here in Worcestershire
Unearthing an old memory for this out of season poem in 44 words for Kim’s quadrille prompt: rain
Such eloquent sadness but lovely to see those snowdrops rising up again ~
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The Victorians regarded them as a symbol of death and would not have them in the house but either way, snowdrops are perfect for graves Grace – and this churchyard was full of them.
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just read your poem which resounds with a sister’s grief – this was just coincidental – memories of a grave once seen in a Worcestershire churchyard
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It’s never too late to write a great memorial for a great sister. it’s always in season! Wonderful!
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thank you Walter – fortunately not mine but it makes us think of our own
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Well, it was some mighty fine writing! 😃
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Beautiful in its melancholic tone!
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had not intended to be so melancholic for the quadrille but this poem came out of the blue!
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Nice remembrance of your sister.
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she was someone’s sister and I recalled her grave with the flowers in a churchyard full of snowdrops
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graceful poetry. The snow drops and rain drops lead me to think of tear drops too. beautiful.
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Jo-Ann your observation is spot on – almost subliminal for me in writing this
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Your opening line is wonderful, Laura. At first I thought, ‘That should be raindrops on roses…’ and when I read it again, I heard the splash of raindrops. A poignant Quadrille and a lovely resting place for your sister.
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yes roses are more in keeping with May but for some reason my thoughts turned back – melancholic yet enjoyed the prompt – and fortunately not my sister
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I love how you tied the beauty of the flowers into such melancholy… the symbolism of flowers is so intriguing… you went for snowdrops I went for laburnum
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sad snowdrops -lovely laburnum – though death lingers in those seeds.
p.s. Have some time to read and catch up with others now so coming over to read
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Laburnum is no longer considered deadly… but i think the sensation of danger lingers with people.
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– have you read ‘My Cousin Rachel’? All parts are poisonous but deadly in large enough doses,especially the seeds.. There are non fruiting ones – cultivars , such as L. x watereri ‘Vossii’.- but you have used Laburnum as symbolic of poison jealousy
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I have not read My cousin Rachel….but I do understand that the seed pods can be tempting, looking like peas.
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Beautiful! I find the deeper and longer the memories, the more beautiful the words seem to emerge.
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hard not to get too maudlin too
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A lovely remembrance of a beloved sister…thanks for sharing, Laura.
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I have remembered a stranger but am sure she was –
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We poets should know not to assume every write is personal biography…lovely (and convincing) writing none the less!
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I too assume the autobio – thank you Lynn for your convictions!
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Beautiful and moving tribute to your sister.
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I think I should have made a note at the end that this is not personal but only a poem – we readers cannot always see where poetic licence begins 😉
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The flowers as vital signs – that is brilliant!
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thanks Jilly – small warm hearts beating under all that snow!
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The recurring vital signs and splendid vigor on a grave… a bittersweet poem, well done.
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thank you – I like bitter-sweet!
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Beautiful poem. I love this photo, Laura. 🙂
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many thanks Amy – a touch of photart
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Such a peaceful and gentle quadrille…I was unfamiliar with snowdrops….until now.
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oh how geo-centric we are – snowdrops as novelty must be sheer delight
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