Queen of the Meadows
Much I do not envy them – the cold houses,
the meat-heavy banquets and bread like stone,
haphazard medicine, and tolerance of fleas,
mice, dogs under the table, and violent men
drunk by bedtime. But meadowsweet,
gathered in the summer and strewn
among the rushes when floors were swept –
this I love. The curds and cream handfuls
of blossom, the flossy stamens, like flecks
of ripening butter, and sunlight burning crimson
in the stems against the hedgerow’s deep green,
its scent of honey, freshness in stale air,
comfort in the aches of winter – this I would choose
for my house. A herb for the merry of heart.
Elizabeth Rimmer is the author of two poetry collections, Wherever We Live Now and The Territory of Rain, published by Red Squirrel Press. Her third collection, Haggards, will be published in 2018. She blogs at www.burnedthumb.co.uk.