My Grandfathers Hydrangeas
I have no doubt whatsoever if prizes
were awarded,
for the bluest of blues in any garden,
anywhere at all ..
Then gold would almost certainly go
to my grandfather’s
hydrangeas, the trick is, he said, each
year without fail
they need to be fired up, until full of
ferrous iron filings
and then, in March, cut back, with a
decent pair of old
secateurs just a thumb above a new bud ..