Beautiful or Blighted?

Once upon a time in another age

I would ride to the station

Board the train taking my bike with me

Journey from village to town

Then cycle on to the hospital where I worked

Some times I’d shop on the way home

Always buying a bunch of flowers

They would perch in the mesh bag

Or in the basket on the front of the bike

On days when I didn’t work I’d walk to the shops

And the flowers would be nodding in the basket

On the way home

Even in the nurse’s home as a student

I would buy flowers

Once, from Gypsies, a clump of snowdrops

In a birch twig basket

I have been known to say

If I could not afford flowers

I would feel very poor

 

Nowadays walking to the shops and bike riding

Are beyond me

However the same pleasures

Of moving through the fresh air  

Choosing flowers at the shops

And bringing them home

Come thanks to my power chair

And my wheelie walks

 

The other day I bought tulips

Known as Parrot Tulips

Frilly and Feathered at the edges of each petal

White streaked with vibrant lime green

They are the result of genetic mutations

I don’t trust genetically modified foods

But these floral mutations cause me to consider

How perfection bound we are

Researching Parrot Tulips

I discover passionate opposition from purists

These distortions are seen

As a blight of nature

I had read of trees suddenly producing a flare of foliage

Different to the parent tree

The variations became known as witch’s brooms

Such was the mystery and suspicion

Attached to them

We tend to react this way with people

Who are different to the ‘norm’

We are suspicious of them

Assuming there must be something wrong

With them

We react this way to our selves

If we fear we are not acceptable

 

If…

Instead of tormenting my self

Fearing I am unacceptable because

I do not fit the popular view

Feet too big, hips too large

Lips too thin, nose too wide

Skin too dark, hair too light

Age too evident

In wrinkles and greying head

How wonderful if these so called flaws

Were seen as a bonus

If we could put aside our suspicions

We may discover

Different can be refreshingly

Beautiful

 

Words and Pictures © Denise Stanford 2010

~ by Denise Within the Vine on 16/07/2010.

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