Would Ogden Nash approve

my telling of how the
seeds of cultivated flowers,
purple anemone, white aubrietia, have
escaped over the garden walls?
Planting themselves in the cracks
of the pavement –
they can’t be tamed.

My heart is this way,
escaping the narrow confines
of what is supposed to be,
loving where it will;
Very Like a Whale.

(c) Liz Willows 2000