The wild Cyclamen
Nestling in the grass
Their marbled leaves
Will stay for summer
Soon to fade and seed.
Not bold like daffodils
Or the Iris in the border
Which eyes me every day.
Casting seeds in June
spreading across the meadow
under shrubs and trees
to delight in Spring.
One must bend down low
To find them,
Pull back their grassy hide.
Plant them as you will,
they'll decide to stay,
if you give them peace.
John Rickell's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (Cyclamen by John Rickell )
- Proclaiming Love, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
- Easter, Naveed Khalid
- Mona Lisa, Naveed Khalid
- Exciting Colors, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
- Three Days Before You Left, Mikey Bachman
- Conceptualizing Thoughts, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
- When someone, hasmukh amathalal
- Different Thoughts, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
- A Little Abstract, Naveed Khalid
- With a logic, hasmukh amathalal