Wild violets love to grow
By a carpark's boundary wall;
They flourish out of concrete -
Vivid purple, frail and small.
It gives me quite a thrill to see
Them growing in their groove.
Yet someone else detests them
and does their utmost to remove
Those audacious little violets
From their home beside the wall.
One day they're present in their glory
But next day - none at all.
Three times they've been uprooted.
Three times to my dismay
I've seen that glorious purple patch
Transformed to dull concrete grey.
Sweet, inoffensive violets -
What on earth can be their crime?
Still, however much they get pulled out
They'll come back another time!
Lovely poem on wild violets! Some plants grow out of crannies and also from cracks on the wall without being tended or cared for and they grow profusely and burst into blooms! I love seeing them... and can imagine your disappointment at seeing them mercilessly pulled out! But they are so rescilient, that they'll come back soon! A sweet poem on a simple weed flower!
Brilliant. I love violets, and have them growing wild in my own little plot. When I glanced at the poem title I thought it said, 'The secret violin killer'... I thought 'I must read this'..! As you say, they are tough little blighters and will grow anywhere it seems. Lucky for us.
i love them, the weed flowers. i share your tender feeling. enjoyed this poem.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Intended or not, I see your analogy of a down trodden lot, struggling to survive. Oppression and suppression keep them down trodden. You being the social justice wishes whole thing differently. What a humane view point! wonderful, Susy.