A Blue Jug of Narcissi

It was always narcissi that I liked best
in this old blue jug.
Yellow for the sun and blue for the sky:
a memory tug.

It takes me back to when I was small
and it sat on the mantelpiece.
Could be the very same flowers, locked in time:
spring's press release

Forever new and forever old. I'm glad I kept
this jug. I suppose
that I'll always see, as I did as a tot,
its handle as a Roman nose.

poem © Celia Warren 2014

(The forecast was wrong - we have lovely warm sunshine today after yesterday's rain!)