My favourite flower, if you’ll pardon,
Is standing stately in my garden,
And it’s so tall it must have props.
They lend support to hollyhocks.
They’re tall, graceful and so proud.
The wind’s blown one; it’s sadly bowed.
They come in lovely pastel shades;
It’s unfortunate that they ever fade.
Before you cut them down, you’ll find
So many seeds are left behind,
And if you plant them, they will grow.
Next year you’ll have another show.
Copyright on all my poems