I've been very inspired by flowers lately. I posted a couple, but I have so many more I need to post. Every now and then my work switches gears and changes directions. Now is one of those times. With that said, here is a beutiful poem by my friend Margaret:

Garden Ghosts

I have sold my garden.
The house, too, but that doesn’t
pierce my heart. Pain is rooted
in pink bleeding hearts, hazy
gleam of daylilies at dusk

Ghostly now the fragrance
of lilacs, king-tall spires
of sweet ivory foxgloves.
Gone, intoxicating scent
of alabaster lilies.

Lost, dainty pirouette
of pollen-drunk monarchs,
spring’s waltzing bluebells.
No anniversary blooms
on old Rose of Sharon.

Now, will undisciplined
ivy circle in and out,
poison-ivy thrive without
restriction, weeds twine
about the wildflowers?

This last sunlit morning
I kiss my house good-by
and bury my heart beneath
grandfather’s peonies.