My Grandfathers Hydrangeas

Neville

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 ..

 

  • Author: Neville (Offline Offline)
  • Published: March 17th, 2026 08:34
  • Category: Unclassified
  • Views: 5
  • Users favorite of this poem: Tristan Robert Lange
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Comments +

Comments2

  • orchidee

    Good write N.

    • Neville


      Thanks a bunch Orchidee .. Neville 😎👍

    • Tristan Robert Lange

      Neville, that line about “fired up…full of ferrous iron filings” stuck with me…it turns something ordinary into something almost alchemical. Like tending the soil is also tending legacy. The repetition of the opening brings it back around like a season…like March always comes again. There’s something steady and grounding here. And, I love hydrangeas, so there's that. Well done, my friend. 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦‍⬛



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