A POEM A DAY - WILD HONEYSUCKLE



It has now been over six weeks since I have left my house. I am missing walking on the hills, only 1 km from my home but still inaccessible. I look out at them everyday and wonder how the spring flowers are growing after weeks of rain and intermittent sun. This is a photograph of creeping honeysuckle growing in amongst the shrubs under the pine trees. I thought honeysuckle was a garden plant and remember it growing up the brick garage wall when I was a child, bashed by our bouncing balls. I was surprised to see it growing wild. 

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