Join me as I walk past the best of gardens
Its tulips nod my way
But their colours filter through my sunglasses
And don’t quite hit me as they should
– The way you and yours could

I want you to know how they grow
Those wild flowers of my imagining
Spread in senseless smatterings
Beneath your wordless battering
Watch as touch-starved tendrils reach
And meaner hands meet
Crying for the fingers that
Forged by the blossoming
Of these lines.