Huddled chimneys, grey, forlorn,
In the deadened light of a city morn.
Rooftops ranging, red and high,
Tenement windows glaring, dry.
And – flower pots!
Gaily caparisoned flower pots,
Nodding against the sky!
Fire escapes alive with the green
Of scarlet runner and Indian bean,
Caught in a handful of black dirt,
Carried home in a baby’s skirt. . .
Flower pots!
Verdantly growing flower pots,
Lifting their blooms on high!
Jack and the Beanstalk’s magic might –
Vines spring up in a single night!
Old faces soften, children stare
At the slender gardens in the air.
Flower pots!
Meagre little clay flower pots
Bring the glow of the country there!
(Laura Benet)
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Based on Topics: Night Poems, Flowers Poems, Fire Poems, Children Poems, Cities Poems, Countries Poems, Babies PoemsBased on Keywords: deadened, caparisoned, beanstalk, verdantly