Some stretch towards the warmth of the Sun,
Others allow their heavy heads to fall,
Some snuggle warmly into the rich earth
Others fight to show, with pride, their leafy perfection,
Some stand tall together, intertwining, clustered as one,
heavy with petals, almost boastful of their rich beauty,
Secure in numbers
Some stand alone, elegant with supportive stem,
Raising their fine petals with pride
Alone... "Look how beautiful I am," they say
Others climb with sheer determination to their place of rest,
to fix contentedly on brick or wood.
This poem was written by Kate Nielson, who visited the garden some years ago. It was her first ever poem.
Some spread and try to take control,
Knowing theirs will be a short journey ended by the blade
to keep the balance
Others have lived gloriously but now must die
They are ready to leave,
To fall from velvet red and purple into withered brown and black..
Some are dead already, all life gone, unable to survive the heat and drought
with no strength to fight on.
On a carpet of green, the colours emerge, as if untouched
since birth by human hand
Some are content to rest in small space, delicate and unassuming,
Others must stand tall, must be singled out and shown admiration
or they will fade and die... from lack of care.
I watch you as you gently lay to rest the dead, careful not to disturb
Allowing some who should be gone by now
To give just one or two more moments of pleasure to the eye.
You weave among them, strong yet delicate
Vibrant with energy and colour, yet serene with pastel softness..
Drooping every so often, you change and climb safely towards the
heat of the sun and gain from its warmth.
It is hard to separate you from this scene.
As I watch, I see you blend perfectly with the beauty you alone
With love and tenderness, yet determined strength.
Growth and life in abundance, you live as a beautiful flower...
bringing happiness and peace to all who view you ... and admire.