On Devon Banks

Keep your concrete, keep your rubble,
keep your troubled city banks;
give me banks of gentle green,
where celandines wear
their hearts on their leaves,
the primrose smiles through grassy blades
and, dark as night, ivy berries hide their light
while snowdrops glow.

And, high against a pewter sky,
gorse provides a thousand suns.

poem © Celia Warren 2015