Often I'd Search Out The Blue

Often I'd search out the of blue forget-me-not Back of some tall-hoary; May hawthorn, shabby hedge Or right down to the waters marigold ledge I'd dream of orchids the hybrid bergamot. I'd look for these lost gems to find—there! Which; grew the better where they were without care. Entangled fighters at their wondrous best; For them who had survived the cruelest test. They; once fly-tip plants I would dig to cherish But death my dear sits amongst the strongest flowers Even to them, the rubbish heaps nourish. Even to them that triumphed to flourish Nodding to the Lord who gave equal powers Who bore the hardest test cast out his parish?