Don’t be in a hurry, the buds tell me.
Open when you’re ready.
What does it matter if others blossom
before you?
Remember the gulls
how they fly in loose formation over the sea
at sunset,
how there’d always be some bringing up the rear,
the stragglers.
It’s not a race as our Prime Minister said.
They get there in their own sweet time.
Like my teachers said of me, you may be slow, John,
but you get there in the end,
It’s okay to be a straggler.
John Malone 
Gorgeous stargazers are a fine complement for your post, John. It’s not a race, that’s what my husband says to me when I’m impatient. Heh.
As for being a straggler , it does beat never finishing at all. 🙂
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your husband is very wise, Eden; and yes, it is important to finish —
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it absolutely is fine, all in your own time
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it’s the best way to live, Beth: marching to the beat of your own drum 🙂
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Lovely musings, John. I feel like a straggler today and now it all feels validated. Buds know best.
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Lol; it is good to be validated even if is by buds and gulls 🙂 you take validation where you find it these days 🙂
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Agreed, and so I say, thank you ever so much for lifting my spirits.
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it’s a pleasure, K 🙂 it’s good where poems can provide some solace —
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I really like this. Yes, it’s good to be the straggler.
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thanks, Bob; a plain little piece but it says something important —
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