Posted in Short thoughts

the autumn hawkbit

midweek poem - see what a flower
Scorzoneroides/Leontodon autumnalis

because I was photographing trees
you gave me a wild flower

because we shared that graveyard moment
you brought me this
yellow as the ripened summer
weedy as dandelions
folklore food for hawk eyes

because of how the flower sucked up the sun
it showed  the grim detachment of your proffered hand
kindling conversation by a tombstone den
amongst the oldest of London’s Christians*

because I am well-seasoned now
jaundiced thoughts were squashed like lice
against the backdrop of the old brick workhouse**
and still the poor and derelict are with us

because such moments are rare
and even common flowers fade
I captured your gesture forever

* One of the earliest Christian churches in  England – St Pancras Old Church

** A public institution in which the destitute of the church parish received board and lodging in return for work – see St Pancras workhouse 

A true tale in simple verse written for the Midweek Motif: “A flower was offered to me….”
and I guess a flower suitable for the imaginary garden



playing with photography @ eljaygee whilst Tell Tale Therapy has a weakness for words

35 thoughts on “the autumn hawkbit

  1. Yes to be gifted with flowers is indeed rare – so much imagery and depth in this poem..i could almost visualise the graveyard moment..the poet walking today..feeling the stories and people who came before..i think many people are still stuck in workhouses – our heads..our houses..our takes an open mind to spot that one shining leaf…as perfectly demonstrated here


    1. you have picked up the poetic ambience too – Shelley courted Mary Godwin here as she visited her mother’s grave (Wollstonecraft’s body moved later to St. Peter’s Churchyard, Bournemouth, England in 1851)


  2. A beautiful poem. Is it possible to start it with the prompt words, without spoiling what you have?


  3. This is a beautifully devised poem. I love the way you have linked ideas together with the recurring lines and have woven the past into the descriptions.


  4. luv the colour of yellow, that christian symbolic hope ray, and the yearning/nostalgia of the graveside moment

    have a blessed Wednesday

    much love…


  5. I love the introductory lines……….so evocative. I love “yellow as the ripened summer / weedy as dandelions / folklore food for hawk eyes” Very lovely writing, Laura.


  6. This is stunningly beautiful. I too love wandering around London particularly the east end where there is a plethora of Wren’s churches squeezed in tight by the modern city.


    1. oh yes indeed – often am in the city amongst the guild halls and wren churches but rarely further east than Shoreditch. Old St Pancras is a frequent haunt and hence the encounter


  7. How true that instant of hand offering flower–what the had reveals about the flower, what the flower reveals about the hand–the kindness despite-within-redeeming history. Wow.


  8. I like your poem a lot, Laura, and I don’t mind you didn’t start the poem with the given line, as the meaning was there lines… Wonderful write.


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