Foxgloves
1. There’s not much you can say about hollyhocks.
2. Or are they foxgloves?
3. They’re tall, for instance.
4. Skyscrapers of the garden.
5. And they always appear in June.
6. Like big, extravagant yardsticks for the extended daylight hours.
7. Yardsticks with bells on.
8. Those bells, though.
9. Noteless until the bees arrive.
10. Now kiosks serving free nectar.
11. Soup kitchens doling out nectar.
12. With blotches on the floor.
13. Or leprous tablecloths.
14. Or mouths that speak the bees like poems.
15. The blotches hint the roots might tap Hell.
16. In summary, pleasantly tall, with flowers.
17. That are a bit disturbing on the inside.
18. But that doesn’t seem to bother the bees.
19. They clamber in, the blotches show them
20. where to plant their feet.
21. they may mythologize Death as a long blotchy tunnel
22. with nectar at the end.
Having written poetry for several years, Oliver Armison has finally decided it may be of interest to someone else. He lives and works in Liverpool.