Appearing in June, trumpeted lances <br />Rise like fine swords fencing for room, daylight <br />Shines on pink blooms strung around serried ranks <br />Of foxgloves, belying valiant fights <br />Wrought boldly in darkest earth for release <br />Before this, - but June is the month rightly <br />Assigned for hegerow lining of niches <br />Frilled with upright military show. <br />Thrusting displays now blossom away, trying <br />To reach for the sky. Why, without knowing, <br />Do foxgloves break ranks, disperse and then die?<br /><br />Fay Slimm<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/foxglove-force/
