27 July 2017

Poetry Thursday - Anne Stevenson and John Clare celebrate a humble weed

"thou humble flower" (via)

They won’t let railways alone, those yellow flowers.
They’re that remorseless joy of dereliction
darkest banks exhale like vivid breath
as bricks divide to let them root between.
How every falling place convoys their smile,
taking what’s left and making a song of it.

Anne Stevenson (b.1933)

While looking for a picture of ragwort, I came across another poem about it, by John Clare (1793-1864):

Ragwort thou humble flower with tattered leaves
I love to see thee come and litter gold...
Thy waste of shining blossoms richly shields
The sun tanned sward in splendid hues that burn
So bright and glaring that the very light
Of the rich sunshine doth to paleness turn
And seems but very shadows in thy sight.

1 comment:

Unknown said...

Thanks for reminding me of the positives of ragwort. Every time I see it I remember BTCV weekends endlessly pulling up ragwort on the South Downs – not one of my favourite conservation tasks! Sally