Two months ago, the rolling green of Middle England was covered in purple and I wrote on the blog that the rosebay willow herb is one of my favourite summer flowers. 
Nothing is left but a dried up scribble of empty seed pods, which perfectly matches the barren tangle of my mind at the moment.
Continue reading “a poem for every occasion”
For no particular reason, the rosebay willow herb is one of my favourite summer flowers. The name is one I remember learning as a child, along with so many other pink and purple blooms: meadow crane’s-bill, mallow, cosmos, buddleia…
I haven’t spent much time in the UK over the last 20 years and I am struck now by the willow herb spires lining the river banks and towering above the long grasses in the fields and meadows.
There seems to be something very aspirational – and inspirational – about how they point to the blue sky: I get the impression they are telling me there is no limit to the possibilities.
A closer look reveals a host of insects busy among the flowers: a reminder that without hard work ambition may count for nothing.
don't confuse the narrator 