A poem inspired by Victorian flower symbolism |
My strength saps and the way is long, How can I bear to struggle on? Wait… what is that I behold Spread in banners of white and gold Supple, simple, growing from the glower Of a wasteland too bleak for many a flower… Hopeful chamomile! A never ending song beats at strife With the leaden cloud dragging at my soul — hope, life! The energy makes me want to dance light As if I had feather leaves and petals pure white, Simple beauty like the wings of a dove Though times are dark, the flower centres glow with energy from the sun above. Bright chamomile! Light, delicate to the touch as birds That fly, fly away from adversity’s torturous words The sunlit meadow scent relaxes me as, homeward bent, I carry a posy that whispers how camomile knows best, Adversity is better face after rest. Calming camomile! I sip camomile tea, the flower heads float — stars Infusing the cup with essence of gold, life’s wars Dissolve beneath the honey, fresh grass, satisfying lavender blend. Though there is adversity there is energy to help you mend. Rest, the small, bright things of the world that throng The world around you — they are camomile’s comforting song. Reenergising camomile! |