MD Kerr

My usual walk

Acrostic pastoral

Text of the poem

Forget-me-nots and grape hyacinth creep through cracks while
lesser celandine throws its yellow stars all
over the meadow, bolder than sun. Each day I pay my
respects to the bluebell patch, whose silent chimes
I heard first two years ago, but still I stride
onward, barefoot, grinning, kicking my soles through the
green’s overgrown grass and crouching for a
ripe dandelion to munch: through the meadow gate
and dance, spin, toes in mud, germander speedwell
popping up its light blue and curls of leaves, a daily
“Hello!” on my way to the wood, through hails of plum blossom:
yes, the white flowers nod, come eat us: I feast on wild garlic.

Thanks to for the prompt to write about floriography.

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