16 Saturday Apr 2022
Posted in Poetry
As the beautiful daffodils are still putting on a triumphant display, now the cherry blossoms are starting to meke a grand entrance.
Daffodils remind me of my mother, and this is a golden oldie dedicated to my mother.
05 Tuesday Apr 2016
Posted in NaPoWriMo 2016, Poetry, Poetry readings / Events
Tags
Alex Carr-Malcolm poet, Alex Carr-Malcolm poetry, Alexandra Carr-Malcolm, Counting Magpies, Counting Magpies Alexandra Carr-Malcolm, Daffodils, daffodils poem, napowrimo, NaPoWriMo 2016, NaPoWriMo16, poetry, Yorkshire poet
Picture credit: enchanted home.com Pinterest https://uk.pinterest.com/pin/568438784198424931/
Sorry about the blurry focus on the youtube clip! I don’t know what happened, at least I didn’t break the camera.
My mum was diagnosed with cancer in March 2005. The seasonal flower around Easter is the daffodil, consequently in the hospital she received a lot of beautiful vibrant daffodils. Also very significant as it is the symbol for Marie Curie cancer care.
I wrote this poem a few weeks later whilst she was in the hospice.
It is true – if you put a vase of tightly closed daffodils on a warm and sunny window ledge, you can hear them creak and crinkle as they open 🙂 I noticed this whilst she was sleeping and I was sat by her side.
Daffodils
Those last few weeks
we spent watching the daffodils.
Like two mischievous schoolgirls
we laughed until we cried
we cried until we laughed.
You said daffodils were noisy,
that they crinkled when they opened.
I thought it was the morphine;
but you were right,
they are noisy –
crinkly daffodils!
I see them
and I laugh
and cry.
© Daffodils 18.08.2013
by Alexandra Carr-Malcolm
Daffodils is published in Counting Magpies by Alexandra Carr-Malcolm, if you would like to purchase a copy, please contact me 🙂
30 Monday Apr 2012
Posted in Deep Stuff!, Longing & Waiting, Poetry
Tags
butterflies, cry, Daffodils, days, death, fleeting, longing, loss, memories, migrate, Mother, mourning, Mum, poetry, tears, wilderness
The Wilderness Years are over,
they are with us no more;
while birds migrate for winter time,
so Death has closed the door.
The days were, oh, so fleeting,
like butterflies in spring.
The time we spent together
made my lonely heart sing.
Shared memories of daffodils,
we laughed until we cried –
we cried until our tears ran dry,
I was ever by your side.
How could this have happened?
How could you leave this way?
I always think about us –
and mourn you every-day.
© Wilderness Years 2012
By Alexandra Carr-Malcolm
A show of daffodils by the A6091 Melrose bypass road These daffodils are on the northeast embankment of the A6091 near Melrose Roundabout. The verges of a 3km length of road from the roundabout to the eastern end of Melrose were planted with daffodils several years ago [562294]. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
Worldly Winds 