Poetry
Comments 48

The Gardener’s Honeysuckle

We trained honeysuckle to climb.

Pinched soft, young buds

to encourage growth,

cooed, pinned, tied.

Kept those vines curling upwards

across,

into gaps left barren.

Marvelled at the wild beauty,

the choreographed wild flowers,

the distressed wooden benches.

Artificial imitations.

A modern, cottager’s garden.

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It’s the first night back at the Poets Pub after the Christmas break. To kick things off we’ve been given the challenge of writing a quadrille revolving around the world ‘curl’.

 

This entry was posted in: Poetry

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Carol Forrester is a twenty-three year old writer trying to be a better one. Don’t ask her what her hobbies are because the list doesn’t get much beyond, reading, writing and talking about the same. She has a 2:1 BA degree in history from Bath Spa University and various poems and stories scattered across the net. Her flash fiction story ‘Glorious Silence’ was named as River Ram Press’ short story of the month for August 2014 and her short story ‘A Visit From The Fortune Teller’ has been showcased on the literary site Ink Pantry’s. Most recently, her poem ‘Sunsets’ was featured on Eyes Plus Words, and her personal blog Writing and Works hosts a mass of writing from across the last five years. She has been lucky enough to write guest posts for sites such as Inky Tavern and Song of The Forlorn and is always open to writing more and hosting guest bloggers here on Writing and Works. With hopes of publishing a novel in the next five years and perhaps a collection or two of smaller works, Carol Forrester is nothing if not ambitious. Her writing tries to cover every theme in human life and a lot of her work pulls inspiration from her own eccentric family in the rural wonders of Shropshire life.

48 Comments

  1. This is gorgeous….reminiscent of Elizabeth Gilbert’s “The Signature of All Things”—have you read it? It inspires, as your words here do, such an appreciation for gardening, the earth, and living things!

    • Thank you, no I don’t think I have read it but I’ll look it up. 🙂 I’m so glad you liked the poem. I’ve been getting into gardening more in the last year but my mother’s garden has always been a wild thing and I rarely worry too much about keeping my own a perfect manicured and in line.

      • There was just something about the ‘wildness’ of it and the ‘gaps left barren’ that reminded me of that authenticity of Gilbert’s writing. Lovely. I do not have a green thumb at all, by any stretch of the imagination!! I can’t even keep a house plant alive 😛

  2. Love the wild beauty even if its choreographed among the distressed wooden benches ~

    Thanks for joining us Carol ~

  3. My mom kept on doing this to our vines. Love how you put it this way- choreographed. Now I have a term for what she does. 🙂

    • Indeed it is. I’ve got some honeysuckle outside and I am training it, but once it’s got a grip on the frame I’ll leave it to do what it wants.

  4. Others have said it, but I will too. The imagery is fantastic. I adore the last 5 lines especially. Well done, poet!!

  5. Rosemary Nissen-Wade says

    I love training vines as you describe (though mine are not honeysuckle.)

  6. Your words are choreographing the wildflowers of the verse, as it grows it is molded according to the gardener’s whim. Very nice!

    • Thank you Bjorn. My mother’s garden always ran on the wild side and growing up in the country side I’ve always preferred the rambling mess of wild poppies and bluebells to carefully planted borders.

  7. Oh….you’ve created a beautiful image here. It reminds me of Monet’s Giverny gardens….since I’ve had those on my mind. Beautiful. On the other hand, the taming of wild things can be unnatural…but somehow I still feel the wildness and beauty here. 🙂

  8. Your curly honeysuckle has me longing for the spring when the first wave of honeysuckle runs riot in our garden – there’s some right outside the window by my desk. Beautiful, Carol!

  9. I extremely enjoyed your word choice here, it really helped me imagine the scene and see and read the poem two-fold: plainly, and grasp it, but also from a surreal point of view and let it grow inside my mind how I want it. Simple, useful and powerful.

  10. Pingback: New Year, New Posts, Same Old Me | Writing and Works

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