It’s the time of year when wildflowers appear along verges, in thickets,
under hedges, all over the fields … the earth in all its glory …
I KNOW A BANK
where wild thyme tosses
clouds of perfume
trumpets of morning glory 
hurry over the fence
whose daisies are these
raging hillside in waves?
thistles fold prickles
into envelopes of grass
lean into the prayers
of shadowed monkshood
columbine raises
a late masquerade
so many wilds blow
softly through dusk
published in Jellyfish
A Bedroom of Searchlights’: poetry. This collection draws a picture of the poet’s divorced mother, an artist with two children, who struggled with poverty, war, and the realities of daily life, yet still found beauty and comfort in her garden, and her art.
