Foxglove Force
Appearing in June, trumpeted lances
Rise like fine swords fencing for room, daylight
Shines on pink blooms strung around serried ranks
Of foxgloves, belying valiant fights
Wrought boldly in darkest earth for release
Before this, - but June is the month rightly
Assigned for hegerow lining of niches
Frilled with upright military show.
Thrusting displays now blossom away, trying
To reach for the sky. Why, without knowing,
Do foxgloves break ranks, disperse and then die?
