These bright, brash plants standing
tall have no pretence.
They are what they are,
and don’t deny it.
Fields of them line the
French roadsides. Striking and
purposeful, they are not to be
Even their small siblings,
the ones bought in pots from
florists and garden-centres
These plants are not shrinking-
violets. You will not find them
cowering in shade or damp woodland;
they are showy, proud, in your face,
demanding to be seen.
If sunflowers could speak,
They would be loud, outspoken,
heard above the crowd,
unable to help themselves.
sunflowers are silent, intent
on following the sun,
looking for love; and
all the while in that beautiful head,
Fibonacci numbers are calculated,
seeds plotting their spiral patterns.
Margaret Holbrook lives in Cheshire, where she grew up. Her poetry has been published in several journals including, Orbis, The Journal, The SHOp, SLQ and The Caterpillar, and in poetry anthologies, most recently Schooldays from Paper Swans Press.
Her collection, Hobby Horses Will Dance (based on myth, nature and folklore) was published in 2014.
Margaret leads the Creative Writing Group for Chapel Arts, in Chapel en le Frith, Derbyshire and is the host for Readings at Rems, also in Chapel en le Frith.