Plumbago

or The Blue Throne

That's a pretty bank of blue
Tumbling over the garden fence
In dappled shade and undulating canopy.
It rushes sleepily.

Wild and gentle with soft ambition,
A fragile seat of haphazard beauty.

Leaving confidence and humility,
Blooming tragic royalty
That gives up its throne
Despite and due to green pretence,
Calmly, serenely, elegantly,

With fullness of weak heart
And emptiness of starving soul.
That's a pretty bank of blue.