Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
I In the garden with the cherry tree - where daffodils curb the fence - cats in long grass stalk the birds and the rhubarb patch is bursting. The back of next door's shed. A white wall of pebbledash. It's one almighty canvas, the same size as a goal. II In the garden with a trampoline centre - first love sits poised in morning air - though we haven't shut our eyes all night, we're more alive than ever here. King of the burning woodpile. Trimmed weeds in a mound. Neighbours chirping out of view. Sport scores over a blaring tune. III In the garden that's become a home - close to my place of worship - guests wave outside the temple, years and years of well-wishers. Looking out for hedgehogs. Feeding a family of foxes. Like a wave in my brain, memories come flooding in. IV In the garden that was aforementioned - long after daylight has drowned - a friend of mine sits next to me and we gaze through broken cloud. We've seen everything here: sun, rain, snow and hail. This garden knows all my pain and has helped me to heal.
0
Sep 24, 2020
Sep 24, 2020 at 1:51 PM UTC
The Gardens
I In the garden with the cherry tree - where daffodils curb the fence - cats in long grass stalk the birds and the rhubarb patch is bursting. The back of next door's shed. A white wall of pebbledash. It's one almighty canvas, the same size as a goal. II In the garden with a trampoline centre - first love sits poised in morning air - though we haven't shut our eyes all night, we're more alive than ever here. King of the burning woodpile. Trimmed weeds in a mound. Neighbours chirping out of view. Sport scores over a blaring tune. III In the garden that's become a home - close to my place of worship - guests wave outside the temple, years and years of well-wishers. Looking out for hedgehogs. Feeding a family of foxes. Like a wave in my brain, memories come flooding in. IV In the garden that was aforementioned - long after daylight has drowned - a friend of mine sits next to me and we gaze through broken cloud. We've seen everything here: sun, rain, snow and hail. This garden knows all my pain and has helped me to heal.
Poem #12 from my collection 'A Shropshire Grad'.
LewisWynDavies
Written by
Sep 24, 2020
Sep 24, 2020 at 1:51 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem