The ghost of summer
Memory of laughing days
Still holds its colour
A small bouquet of heather sits on my desk, as fresh and bright as the day it was gathered. I always hate breaking the stems and take only a single sprig from any plant in the purple sea that paints the hillsides. I feel guilty, as if I am destroying beauty. My depredations are so small and my exile’s joy in the tiny blooms so great… They are a symbol of home and hope, a promise that I will return. I doubt the heather minds.
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About Sue Vincent
Sue Vincent is a Yorkshire-born writer and one of the Directors of
The Silent Eye, a modern Mystery School. She writes alone and with
Stuart France, exploring ancient myths, the mysterious landscape of Albion and the inner journey of the soul. Find out more at
France and Vincent. She is owned by a small dog who also blogs.
Follow her at
scvincent.com and on Twitter
@SCVincent. Find her books on
Goodreads and follow her on
Amazon worldwide to find out about new releases and offers. Email: findme@scvincent.com
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Sue Vincent's Daily Echo 
Pingback: Ghost midnight haiku – The Militant Negro™
Thank you 🙂
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So touching!
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❤
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Reblogged this on anita dawes and jaye marie.
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Thanks, Jaye x
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I have Heather in my garden, pink, white and lilac. The flowers really are so tiny…
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And yet together, they paint mountains 🙂
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and they do it beautifully!
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Perhaps the heather sent that very sprig to you for that very reason. 🙂
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It would be nice to think so 🙂
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A beautiful haiku holding out the memory and looking forward to next year.
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The purple heather till sits on my desk, looking as fresh as it was on the moor 🙂
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Reblogged this on By the Mighty Mumford and commented:
BEAUTY IN HER BACK YARD…AND IN HER HEART!
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