Sunday Evening Poetry

In My Two Small Fists by Adrian Mitchell

Tomorrow is the last bank holiday for a while, which I actually find quite a shame. I like the laziness, the drinking during daylight hours and the decedent eating they invite. Though I am sure that the joy of them lies within their rarity..
.... Just one more very carefree spring day left before returning to work and running around a lot to get things done in time.

Here's a nice poem to remind us of carefree summer days.. So, here's to slowing down..

In My Two Small Fists by Adrian Mitchell

in that bright blue summer
I used to gather
daisies for my father
speedwell for my mother

with buttercups
and prickly heather
cowrie shells
and a seagull’s feather

treasures in each fist
all squashed together
daisies for my father
speedwell for my mother

(that’s how I see it
but I don’t know
if it really happened
sixty years ago

but my memories shine
and their light seems true
and so do the daisies
and speedwell too)

(Photos are linked and via tumblr. Enjoy the your Sunday evenings everyone, much love.)