I live in an area that for hundreds of years was forest. Even as a child, I
remember woods and meadows unspoilt by factories and houses. I think
this little speedwell flower comes from the once lovely woods we used to
have, at least, the Speedwell that I’m writing about. I remember hearing
the name ‘Bird’s eyes’, when I was small and the thought of all the little
birds flying about without eyes made me cry! Our garden would have
been part of a forest floor a long time ago.


Bird’s eyes
In the garden,
Tiny blue flowers
Weaving over the grass
On stalks so thin,
They threaten
To break
At a harsh look

Don’t be fooled.
This delicate
Dot of blue
Will still be there
When everything else
Has gone.

Including me and you.

        ©2021 Gwen Grant.    

3 thoughts on “   VERONICA CHAMAEDRYS

  1. That made me laugh! But right across from our house was a coalmine! Gone now along with
    a dozen other things. Glad you liked the poem.

    Liked by 1 person

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