I admire her stately pose,

And my nextdoor neighbour on my right

Is a floribunda Rose.

She showers me with fragrance

When her petals start to fall.

But the bindweed,

That entwined weed,

Climbs up and over all!


Delphiniums bid me time of day

Standing tall above the ground.

While the Foxgloves flare their nostrils

And look warily around,

At a haze of blue forget-me-nots

In clumps about their feet.

But the bindweed,

That unkind weed,

Nobody wants to meet.


If I lift my head when soft winds blow,

And I do when I get the chance,

I can see the Canterbury Bells

Swaying as in a trance.

Kissing cousins to Campanula

In pastel blue and white.

But the bindweed,

Unrefined weed,

Just grows with all its might.


The arrival of the Chrysanthemums

All frilled by the autumn breeze,

Add a final touch of splendour

Ere sweet summer takes her leave.

The humblest of nature's flowers,

My time is nearly up.

Not the bindweed,

Much maligned weed!

I'm the creeping buttercup.


Iris Allingham
Old Park Lane
Fishbourne


We would love more poems from you, please, on the theme of 'colour'.

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