We waited for the dayís full sun
to ripen every flowerhead,
then plucked them till the task was done;
ĎAnother fruitful year,í you said.
We steeped the flowers in sugared bowl
with slices of sour lemon.
Their scent is Summerís very soul;
A draught from sparkling heaven.
If you have any thoughts on this poem, Maggie McLean would be pleased to hear them.