The celandine haunts

I’m lost in worlds of mind and memory
Of people gone and problems that devour
When Nature calls out with her yields, her plea.

My  eye is turned without and what I see
Is food for senses numbed by Men of Power.
I leave  the world of mind and memory

Is anything as  alluring as a  tree
When sun  leaps through transparent leafy tower?
Good Nature holds out  generous, haunting pleas

We make a whole from visions fragmentary.
The truth is richer, fiercer, even rawer
So leave  the worlds of mind and memory

I see  the woods,  once  Tudor  hunting fields,
Where Anne Boleyn’s  young daughter showed her power,
Though motherless by father’s cruel decree.

Rain and sun, oh, watercolour free!
The  celandine haunts with its golden flower
Once lingering at the edge of how, maybe.
Now  Nature draws me in  with earthy plea