lily-of-the-valley
~
lily-of-the-valley
~
Convallaria majalis L.
~
where they came from
I do not know, perhaps
~
from my mother’s old home
in a shovel-full of lilac
a sheet of white writing paper
in a green box crammed with letters
~
perhaps from my grandfather’s farm
tucked in beside the creeping Jenny
a green and white plate printed
with a saying about home
~
perhaps from a seed in the gravel
spread on the paths or the road
a line of red pebbles
in a spill of quartz
~
every summer the colony spreads
green flames lick at gravel
white bells, delicate perfume
scarlet berries
~
a letter not written
a plate hung on the wall
a pathway leading home
~
~
All my best!
Stay safe!
Jane
nichepoetryandprose 
I love this, Jane. Had me playing again … with my brother and cousins, in the lily-spread under the oak trees that edged Aunt Doris’ property. Lime popsicles. Ginger snaps. CCM bikes with handle grip streamers. Maybe … a first kiss? {I’ll never tell.}
Ain’t it funny what a poem can do?
Great stuff.
Thanks.
Neil
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neilsam567
November 7, 2020 at 7:29 am
As we get older I find we forget so many little things. Sometimes I think that is the value of art and poetry/ story … they trigger memories thought lost but just hiding there! I remember those streamers!
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jane tims
November 7, 2020 at 10:58 am