Dry husks on close inspection.
Deadish, brownish black,
Plucked from petaled homes
Bagged in airless packets,
Left desiccated in a supermarket,
Their blooming potential undervalued.
No seed of resurrection, surely?
And so, this doubtful, non-starter gardener,
With nothing to lose but a pound,
Purchased and potted and planted
And watered and waited
Until the miracle of green emerged.
A determined rebirth
Sprouting from apparent death
And from the curiousity of a man
From whose soil those seeds found purchase.
Happy now is that newly-qualified gardener,
Surprised at nature's resilience,
And who declares to young and old
"Behold my Marigolds from B&M"