January—drooping snowdrops.
February—hidden violets
purple and white,
in flint-lined ditches
concealed by
green leaf labia.
March—sunny splashes
of primrose faces.
April—paigles in Priest Fields,
pale cowslip yellow.
May—ladies’ smocks
dressed in pastel pink,
called cuckoo flowers.
June—the wild rose pinked
the hedgerows
and bindweed tied them
with its twine.
We blew their trumpets
to make them pop
and shattered their
silk funnels.
July and August—cornfields.
Summer bunches of floppy
red poppies, ox-eye daisies
and corn marigolds.
Meadow buttercups
held under the chin—
to find their yellow reflections.
For the fairies, tiny bouquets
of scarlet pimpernel and
blue-eyed speedwell.
September October—purple and yellow
combine and shine.
Misty Michaelmas daisies
epaulet fringes of golden rod.
Harvest festival sheaves
threaded with silvery feathers
Of old man’s beard.
November—a combustion of nuts and berries.
December—the red and white of holly and mistletoe.
Then the cycle ends and begins.