Potato Blossom
Two-toned, long nosed, petals conjoined.
Such pretty flowers, so rarely seen –
So full of danger, so full of class,
Yet snipped-off to plump-up the tubers, alas.
Was that how these had been purloined ?
Too toxic to keep in a garden that’s clean ?
Yet someone had kept them, and set them in glass
As they gingerly lowered them into a vase.
There’s something illicit in bolted blooms,
In the flowers we’re not meant to see –
The propellers of rocket, the lilac of chive,
The pom-poms of garlic, the lettuce alive.
Gardeners always link flowers with doom,
Or as a time-waster, delaying the pea –
But hold back the harvest, and unwheel the barrow
For the scarlet of runners and saffron of marrow.
Rhyming Couplets 