Gardens Remembered
1.
Marjoram, still golden,
Spills over onto the path;
Lad's Love reaches out
Aromatic fingers;
I remember the Edward Thomas poem,
The little girl on the porch -
'And me forbidding her to pick.'
I am at the door
To a different Age,
A lost World.
2.
A narrow path climbs
Where Nasturtium
Sprawls gold and red
Across beds of White rock;
Curves by Lilac tree
And Rhododendron,
Toward the house,
Where they still sit
Windowed
Under a clear sky;
There is a door –
But I no longer
Have the key.
3.
From a high window
Under another sky,
Look down:
A green lawn, where
A young Apple tree
Blossoms.
Hear laughter of children
At play.
Downhill further,
House roofs,
Chimney smoke.
Beyond that next
Protecting ridge,
A different world.
4.
Day in a garden;
Red-gold Autumn
Carpet-laid
Over the grass
When the last few Plums
Lie purple and wasp-eaten.
Beyond the still bright Fuchsia,
Under the Privet arch,
The gate to the lane
Is closed. No use
To open and go through:
They are all gone
Long ago.
5.
He said, “I'm not sure:
I think it was here,
The summer house.
Do you remember those wonderful teas,
Sandwiches, home-made cake?
And the sun near to setting
As we ate?
She painted a picture,
Did you know?
It used to hang
Just inside the hall door,
On your right
As you walked
Over those wonderful tiles.”
“No, I never knew
What happened
To the painting.
Nor where they all went to
After she died,
Though the Lads Love bush
Still grows by the porch.”
Copyright © Bernard Gilhooly - All Rights Reserved