The heart of a beating flower

They strike my eye anew; tall, purple foxgloves
fired up when the June day's sinking. Dark as Dis
those bold intruders, with a bearing that gives
my mundane heart a lightning bolt. Such as this
that fuses glad to sad, shadowing old loves
with more sweet decaying thoughts. I'll never miss
these flowers though, for some sly seeds will soon lay
claim. Build spire on spire as heavenly display
but when summer cloudbursts drench the trumpet line
they'll switch to gentian and cannily incline
each mouthpiece, till the bees return with sunshine

26 thoughts on “The heart of a beating flower

  1. As soon as I read the title, I knew I’d fall in love with your poem, Laura, and then I read : ’tall, purple foxgloves fired up when the June day’s sinking’ and fell. I especially love the phrase ‘shadowing old loves with more sweet decaying thoughts’.

  2. I luv your foxgloves, described. I had to google it. They are lovely flowers

    much love

  3. “such as this, that fuses glad to sad” – what a beautiful, beautiful phrase… the whole poem is beautiful

    I shouldn’t have read it before trying to write one !

  4. I always think of Foxgloves both poisonous and medicinal nature but you have describes them in much more lyrical terms, Laura – thanks for the prompt…

  5. Beautiful poem, Laura. I especially love this section:

    “…tall, purple foxgloves
    fired up when the June day’s sinking. Dark as Dis
    those bold intruders, with a bearing that gives
    my mundane heart a lightning bolt.”

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