GROWING FLOWERS

Farmer grew flowers, lush pink ones,

in the field at the back of the byre.

The neighbours laughed and ridiculed,

you big soft fool,

there's no money in flowers.

Farmer didn't care.

The world has edges hard enough,

he said, we need more flowers.

We need beauty more than coins,

and smells to ease heavy hearts,

and feasts for weary eyes.

He grew his flowers, every year,

til the neighbours saw his sense,

til their hearts were worn enough to need

his soothing, blooming plants.

They all grow flowers now.

A valley of pink, as far as the eye can see,

and the heart can feel.

©Roisin Duffy

TITLE: GROWING

FLOWERS

ORIGINAL SOLD

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Art Card: €4