deepundergroundpoetry.com
Campions
The campions in the wood are fading
petals limp as seed pods swell,
fecund ripening, swelling seeds,
pink flowers and bees have done their work
The common round again next year.
I watch the seed pods swell
take home a posy of dead flowers
spread them in my garden
pray nature forgives my intrusion
scatter seeds between forget-me-nots
and bless my home with pink,
when June again shines bright.
My poem is crude,simple, as a child's
and as a child so nature wrought.
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