Sunflowers on Maize

Tall strangulating stalks,

With leaves of lascivious green

And skies of cloudy blue,

A permeating scene.

Shouting in the foreground,

Endorsed in yellow gold,

Faces of no feeling,

Confront the landscape bold.

In wanton stark contrast,

The hour has turned to grey,

Barren of vigour and zest,

Who could have planned the day!

Make me as the sunflower,

So brightly ‘gainst the grey,

No heed of pending shadows,

Or where falling petals stay.

©Philip Holden

2003

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