When I were a boy, a nipper, a kid

Wild flowers on a concrete waste

Were always blindingly yellow.

Flowers rooted in the cracks along the road

For me, the yellow-bloomed, only for me.

Whether I was hungry

Or stuffed to the hilt

A slash of yellow beneath the sun

Was reason enough to have fun..

We prisoners saw her

And we gazed in awe,

Seeing what was really always there:

The beauty that is everywhere

In thin air flowers bloomed.

Life crawls out beneath man’s

Deadly abominations: plastic,

Concrete castrations.

Streams run into these brooks running

Beneath the ample May blossom

Where dappled sunlight lights our way

Towards the hidden groves of blue bells

Hidden away where we dreamed of the secret

Garden where roses bloom in wintertime

And footsteps fade into the rose garden

Lifted, magically,  into the spontaneous sublime.