The burnt timbers of the basement
were overgrown with grass and
alder but still her garden remained
amidst the encroaching forest
that last piece of the tame world
she had left
of visions of tea and gentle
conversation a burst of
defiant colour of bold
order spreading in the shadow
of a chaos she had never
chosen
Primrose – Woman
Every May, I do a series of poems based on Victorian flower meanings. Welcome to the Darling Buds.
For more women and persistence of women, my fantasy novel, The Guests of Honor, is available here. Its sequel, With Honor Intact, can be found here.
Cat Amesbury 