Cut Flowers

I’ve always hated cut flowers,

Preferring them wild and free,

Growing softly in gardens,

Or beside a winding tree.

I’d rather see them dancing,

In a meadow kissed by sun,

Than standing still in vases,

Their wandering days all

done.

Especially those imported,

From countries far away,

Their beauty somehow travelled,

And lost a little on the way.

Yet life has changed the picture,

As life so often does,

And now less mobile than before,

I see a different cause.

For now upon my kitchen table,

One simple joy appears,

A little burst of colour bright,

To soften harder years.

The flowers from local gardens,

From roadside, field and lane,

Bring gentle smiles and comfort,

Like sunshine after rain.

And though I once had turned away,

I’ve changed my point of view,

For these small blooms now warm my heart,

I hope they touch yours too.

Sally Somerton - Island Writer

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