Here’s a poignant poem – thank you Michaela.
Names
Drifting in from faraway. Dreaming of land.
We appear, uninvited.
We startle with our upturned faces, our colours, our odd names -
Clinging Ivy. Sweetheart. Bindweed. Bay. And Dock.
Oxeye. Bluebell. Hollyhock.
Poppy.Daisy. Buttercup.
Without permission we pop up.
Searching for home on stony ground.
Find refuge, put down roots, start to settle…
but the trimmers and the strimmers are set to search us out.
We fear the boots that shake the ground. We hear a mutter and a shout -
‘You’re taking up our valued space. You can’t stay.
Go away. Jog on. Be gone.
but … Clinging Ivy. Sweetheart. Bindweed. Bay. And Dock.
Oxeye. Bluebell. Hollyhock.
Poppy. Daisy. Buttercup. Without permission we pop up.
Healing and feeding, we’ll enrich this earth.
Borne here on dreams and clouds of seeds
We settle where we can.
They call us names.
They call us weeds.
© Michaela Morgan
Poetry Roundabout 