An intoxicating fragrance of blue hyacinth
pulls a gentle blanket of tranquillity over
forlorn eyes. Warming spring sun lulls us
into a foolish haze. Cross keyed primroses
in Druidic robes of hopeful yellow guard
the pearly gates of heaven. On the threshold,
spy the wallflower sentinels standing tall
warding off evil like a Mediterranean eye.
Marsh-bound iris holds sure, steadfast with
a relentless hope no slick mud could diffuse.
Shoots spring forth from crimsoned ground.
See white daffodils mourning, wide-eyed,
heralding death in numb prayer over graves
of massacred peoples, watchful and judging.
Slender foxglove holds immortality in its cups,
leaves spear-like in a tense bravery manifest.
Martyrs drink their fill of her bounty and ascend.
Transformative lungwort awakens travellers
into fresh renewal, promising a life eternal.
Witness the gentil nature of lily-of-the-valley
ushering in new beginnings, a novel shot at
mythical happiness. At the end of the Garden,
a lone white poppy bobs its solemn head,
nodding off to sleep.
Dihya Ammar is a disabled Imazighen writer, artist, and scientist based in Scotland. When not writing, they can be found gardening, tending to their ever-growing animal family, and cooking up a storm. Their work has appeared in Green Ink Poetry, The Ekphrastic Review, 3rd Word Press, among others. Their website is: dihyaammar.wordpress.com.