SWEET PEAS

Under the sweet-peas I stood
And drew deep breaths, they smelt so good.
Then, with strange enchanted eyes,
I saw them change to butterflies.

Higher than the skylark sings
I saw their fluttering crimson wings
Leave their garden-trellis bare
And fly into the upper air.

Standing in an elfin trance
Through the clouds I saw them glanceā€¦.
Then I stretched my hands up high
And touched them in the distant sky.

At once the coloured wing came back
From wandering in the zodiac.
Under the sweet-peas I stood
And drew deep breaths. They smelt so good.

Alfred Noyes

DAISIES and VERSES

Daisies

by Hilda Conkling

Snow-white shawls . . .
Golden faces . . .
Countryside, hillside, wayside people . . .
Little market-women
Selling dew and yellow flour
To make bread
For some city of elves. . . .

The daisy follows soft the sun

by Emily Dickinson

The daisy follows soft the sun,
And when his golden walk is done,
Sits shyly at his feet.
He, waking, finds the flower near.
“Wherefore, marauder, art thou here?”
“Because, sir, love is sweet!”

FLORA

A little bit of vibrant colour for a grey, November day. I called this Flora for fairly obvious reasons. We had a lot of fun making the model’s hair fly out like that, although I think she was a tad dizzy by the time we’d finished.