Laura Shovan is an author-poet-friend who lives in Maryland. She posted this photo on Facebook with the following message:
Bloodwort is one of my favorite #secretgarden plants. They only bloom for a few days in early spring. The dogs (or I) stepped on this flower — rescued and happily in an espresso cup!
Laura Shovan, 3/22/22
I love the idea of a secret garden. I love the book The Secret Garden. When I first moved to the house I live in now, every season I would discover new-to-me plants and flowers.
I also love that Laura rescued this little blossom and placed it on a table in an espresso cup. Something so ceremonial and sacred about that.
Bloodwort is also known as bloodroot because the roots are red. Join me in musing on this photo today. Leave your small poem in the comments and encourage other writers with your responses.
Prayer
Margaret Simon, draft
Grace
from her secret garden
fell
at her feet.
She knelt in the still cold earth
to notice
and return its kindness,
placing the small flower
in a small cup,
like a prayer.
Reflections on the Teche 
Her delicate pedals take a rest
Snow white and gold upon her breast
Gentle and kind no stranger she knows
A small piece of a secret paradise– she shows.
(That was fun and that sweet flower deserves some praise) Thanks!
I like the sense of secret discovery here, Abigail!
Secret paradise!
Beautiful!
I feel like the garden itself is speaking in this poem.
Your use of repetition “small” really gives your poem music. Bravo!
Margaret, your poem is beautiful. “Grace/from her secret garden…” These flowers that bloom with no help from us are pure grace, aren’t they?
Flower in a cup
White petals, yellow center
Gives hope for the day
Jane Heitman Healy, 3/23/22
I love how flowers communicate hope!
We all need hope. Thanks for sharing.
There is a sense of hope in early spring.
A tiny flower peeks
over the edge of rescue
blossoming its thanks
to you.
I love “over the edge of rescue”
“over the edge of rescue” is beautiful
I love the idea of a flower peeking out from its cup.
I love how you have the flower communicating with us! “Blossoming its thanks”
A dainty face peeks
beneath a bleached linen cap
angel feather gown
Love her “angel feather gown”
You gave the blossom such a sweet personality.
I love the metaphor of an angel feather gown.
a shy little puritan! nice image, Karen!
Love your prayer, Margaret.
crushed, then rescued,
this harbinger of spring
clings
to the edge
of a small cup—
life is fragile
Beautiful last line, Rose.
Oh, how you captured the fragility of the blossom and life.
Live is fragile–and persistent. Spring will come!
Margaret, your poem implies that a blooming flower is a form of kindness — I think so too. Thanks for this prompt. Reading the poems makes me appreciate these ephemeral blossoms even more.
Thanks for coming by to read the responses.
Bruised
But cradled and loved
Beauty alive for a short time
But preserved
Images and words grant eternal life
I love the juxtaposition of bruised and cradled.
So good to see you here, Jen! Like Margaret, I love the idea of “bruised but cradled.”
Beauty is fleeting, but you show us how to keep it alive. Thanks, Jennifer
I know the flowers are not mine
they belong to birds and buzzing things
and they will bloom as beautifully
with or without me
Still, I snip a stem or two
allow the clanging of bell-shaped faces
call me out and
into myself
Interesting to think of who “owns” the blooms, and I love the “clanging of bell-shaped faces” and their effect on you, Marilyn.