A vase of floribunda daffs, blown down by a storm
So, aims achieved, I present a new poem. Actually I used the same prompt for this poem that I used for the poem in the last post. Of course it was a prompt which could be interpreted in a very free way. It was provided once more by my friend Monna Ellithorpe, one of her weekly writing prompts.
Make up your own mind and please feel free to criticise, or otherwise, in the comments section below. The poem is called ................
We had a beautiful array
Of daffodils in our garden.
Had commented on the colours,
Of the late spring display.
But that wind
Blew up fast, from out of nowhere
And kicked the best for six
With their heavy heads bowed;
Were no match, and fell prostrate.
I found them,
Their heads in the dirt this morning.
Wistfully, I collected the fallen heroes.
Beckoned, to make them proud;
A gift for a mothers grave.