My eyes are like the flower alone,

that blooms still despite its place,

amidst the tall grass and privet’s lee,

perhaps by self in solitude sown,


that by seeing too much are drained,

spent as Autumn’s laboured light,

its lucent intent, shy to visit warmth,

upon land by copper-russet stained.


This flower should be taken by a child,

soft loose hands cradling its delicacy

and placed in water within the light,

to fade and wilt far from places wild.

7 thoughts on “Eyes

  1. Nigel, it is so wonderful to hear you reading your poem again. Or anyone’s poem. 🤗.
    Eyes, this poem is so beautiful and fragile but before commenting more I would dearly love
    to know what inspired these thoughts and emotions.


    Liked by 1 person

    1. This was written in August Miriam. There are 2 versions, this is about a person withdrawing from society after suffering life’s knocks for too long. The other is similar in that it’s about PTSD. The inspiration was finding a single poppy which made me think of those troubled souls who are alone and not heard or helped

      Liked by 1 person

  2. I love listening to this, Nige, and every time I read the words I peel back another layer. There’s such tenderness in the child’s hand cradling the flower, surrounded by love and warmth and a sense of flourishing because it doesn’t ‘fade and wilt’ alone.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. How lovely to hear from you Vanessa! Thank you for the kind comment, it’s very much appreciated – I hope you and yours are well.
      It’s a bit dark for me at the moment in terms of health, but I’m sure there are others worse than I am. I suspect I’m just over-playing the ‘tortured poet’ thing a bit! heehee

      Liked by 1 person

      1. Hi Nigel! you are very welcome! It’s nice to see you around for a moment.
        We are doing okay, thanks. But I am sorry to hear that about your health. Is this a temporary setback?
        haha I doubt it! It’s a wonderful piece of work!

        Liked by 1 person

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