the autumn hawkbit

midweek poem - see what a flower
Scorzoneroides/Leontodon autumnalis

because I was photographing trees
you gave me a wild flower

because we shared that graveyard moment
you brought me this
yellow as the ripened summer
weedy as dandelions
folklore food for hawk eyes

because of how the flower sucked up the sun
it showed  the grim detachment of your proffered hand
kindling conversation by a tombstone den
amongst the oldest of London’s Christians*

because I am well-seasoned now
jaundiced thoughts were squashed like lice
against the backdrop of the old brick workhouse**
and still the poor and derelict are with us

because such moments are rare
and even common flowers fade
I captured your gesture forever

* One of the earliest Christian churches in  England – St Pancras Old Church

** A public institution in which the destitute of the church parish received board and lodging in return for work – see St Pancras workhouse 

A true tale in simple verse written for the Midweek Motif: “A flower was offered to me….”
and I guess a flower suitable for the imaginary garden

Sea salt

sea salt poem - sunset tree photoart
source -@hanginguptodry – the mainstay

Land lubber
ashore with the trees
rope-soled soul
sees boats haul
sailcloth crack and voyagers
buffeted windward

Temptation
a gold horizon
sea fever*
jack tar tales
spillage on troubled waters
deep oblivion

Hunker down
lest I dive headlong
tide driven
wave ridden
trade wind borne from troposphere
afore wake of fear

© Laura Granby 2016

*I learnt to recite as a very young child – John Masefield’s ‘Sea Fever

 

Inspired by today’s photoart and trying for the first time, the syllable stricture of a shadorma (3/5/3/3/7/5) with a sea salt tale for ‘Poetry Pantry
[and I hope to try out Wednesday’s prompt: “A flower was offered to me….”]

Look down

emotography - look out

London blocks the view with buildings
Look up! cranes constructing more and higher still
Look out! pedestrians like bumper cars
the ambulant mobile-mesmerised
Observe the signs of instruction
cluttering streets, zombies
guided here to there with directions
Watch the rushing feet, weaving a fast lane
through the muddled mass of Londoners
Look down and see the pavements open up
mirror art picturing the world around
– puddles are our horizon

© Laura Granby 2016


Postscript: Leaving London for a few days in search of another city!

Joining with Claudette’s emotography event – pictures that move words!