Filigreed by fern, boundaried by birch and wondered upon by willow, your gloves reach out ready to be filled by fingers of sunlight.
Obtuse lines of flight lead the bees to your bounty and promise a suckle of nectar sweet as the summer night under a balmy moon.
eXtremities of woodland are your home of choice as you spire and soar through the cloying edgelands of remnant old places.
Gleefully, we witness your gaudy show and glimmer inside as your magenta bonnets open wide to the love of bees and buzzy things.
Life in the meadowlands and lost corners would be lacklustre should you ever take your showy blooms back down to the underworld.
Over and over again we pray you will stay. Your biennial beauty assures us that yet another summer is here and, although all may not be well, we press on.
Venerable foxglove we implore you to stay. Stay by our side as we wander through these unknown times and hold onto hope.
Ease our hearts, let your Digitalis medicine suffuse our broken vessels and calm the weary soul.
A Foxglove Spell