F and I were having a competition – who could grow a chilli just from a seed? Needless to say mine failed almost immediately but his absolutely flourished. I asked him how he did it and his response of ‘seeds, water, light, love’ was so beautiful I made a note to do something with it. I chose a Shakespearean sonnet structure because it seemed fitting.

Gather them up in your chapped then enfolded warm hands –
those buttons of beige, those buds full of life.
Let them fall through your fingers like grains of fine sand,
fall deep in the furrows that were cut by a knife.
Lift high up the can with its cracked funnelled spout,
hold the weight of the water as its drips fall astray
fill up the old can, fill it up like a fount
then watch as the rainbows dance up in the spray.
Move gentle the box into beams of sunlight –
keep it warm through the days
keep it covered at night
then see how the stalks appear, tender and fey.
But keep watch through the hours, give care from above
because life only thrives when it’s lavished with love.