Canterbury Bells

One is growing in a flower bed,
the other in a crack between slabs;
one planted, the other self-set.

One (of many) might not expect a mention,
but the other grabs attention, saying
Weed me at your peril - and drab's what you'll get.

And look! Each is as beautiful and perfect as the other,
like sister and brother.

© Celia Warren 2024

Feeling a lot better today, though I am still chesty and coughing. Made a brief visit to our daughter's. Not sure where the rest of the day went. Had a phone conversation with one of the Lincolnshire Parkinson's team nurses, a follow-up to my diagnosis five months ago. She (Sharon) was very nice, as you'd expect. Suddenly brought it home to me, though, what I'm facing! I think (despite the shake) I've been somewhat in denial. Left me a bit morose. But that's life! I'm doing all the right things, apparently, line-dancing, gardening, grandchildren-care, and so on. Keep busy and work on core strength seems to be the advice. Oh, and apparently I can expect coughs and colds to be worse as I have PD. That's nice (!) It might explain why my poetry is becoming a bit rhyme-led and and banal as everything, including mental processes, slows down. Well, that's my excuse, anyway! ;-)

(This day 45 years ago my first baby was due. It won't be his birthday for another few days, but he and his wife are currently having a week in Spain.)