Even more of a quick poem today, been trying to finish that chapter I mentioned yesterday (happily it’s getting there but so so much slower than I thought it would). Today’s poetry prompt was on heirloom seeds, so my inspiration is Rochdale Rotary Club’s Urban Farm project from 2013 onwards.
On the morning of ‘Britain in Bloom’
the suited judges, the gold chained mayor
stepped out of the town hall
onto the pavement,
and looked up at lampposts,
and looked down into concrete troughs.
Expecting a plastic weave of viola, silver fall, creeping jenny,
violets, yellows, soft greys, framed in hearts of ivy.
But gone, all gone.
Hanging down instead in freshly watered supermarket bags –
vegetables, fruits, companion plants.
Courgette flower peeking up cheeky green,
tumbling tomatoes, sweet basil and marigold.
The judges raised their clipboards, furrowed brows,
the mayor twisting his livery collar
(heads would roll for this)
time seemed to slow down as if embarrassed.
but to his surprise
“First prize” they said, “first prize”.
News spread fast and high as sweetpeas
– all wanted to see this edible abundance.
Take a memento home if they had the willpower.
Autumn rolled in as the tourist buses rolled away. The fuss was over,
but everyone was preparing compost for next year.