Fallen Flowers – A Poem By Carol J Forrester

“After last night’s storm the tulip petals are strewn across the patio where they mortally fluttered.”- Church, Jim Harrison

I keep all my fallen petals
the bruised blooms most would discard
as too damaged for the vase
in the centre of the dining table
where the best silver is used.
No one calls a chrysanthemum whore
for the bee at its core
or whistles when lilac tumbles
between sheets of sedge and foxglove.
They are simply flowers.
Imagine being no less worthy
for want of expectations,
your only driving need
to turn your face towards the sun.

25 Comments

    1. Thank you Bjorn. Simple adoration can be dangerous in some cases. It’s easy to forget that it’s the complexities, and imperfections that make something real. Not just the surface beauty.

      Reply

  1. ……………….èpetry like this makes me richer, after the read…and after such a read I do sit dazed…line after line, each full, wonderful…I mean…No one calls a chrysanthemum whore
    for the bee at its core….who could ever improve on that….a stunning poem..

    Reply

  2. This is absolutely breathtaking, Carol! I so love these lines; “They are simply flowers. Imagine being no less worthy for want of expectations, your only driving need to turn your face towards the sun.” 💝💝

    Reply

    1. Thank you. There was an article on the BBC news app yesterday about hymenoplasty, and I spent a couple of hours fighting with my own fury to try and write a poem. In the end the prompt line opened the poem up for me and I think it works so much better with this direction.

      Reply

        1. I thought I would mention (you might have already spotted) but I’ve started putting up speculative fiction prompts again for 2022. I’m scheduling the February prompt at the moment and the theme is poison.

          Reply

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