A Special Garden

Here is a garden unlike that of Eden.
No temptation lies hidden here
Unless to tarry too long among the blooms.
A place for contemplating and resolving.
For resting and for idle dreaming.
Heady perfumes leave no room for sadness.
They drive away the baser thoughts
And lift the shadows from the dark
Reaches of an overcrowded mind.
When the flowers are smiling why should we
Be sunk in self-destructive gloom.
This garden is for life, vivacity and joy.
It can heal deep hidden wounds
Of the spirit if only it is allowed.
It can lead to a path of inspiration,
Creativeness, and spiritual fulfilment.
Walk the spirit in such a garden
And know that peace and love
Must triumph for ever and a day.

(C) ES

Sullenly at Molyneaux Bay and Elsewhere

A skylark above the Catlins pours out its song

The tide licks at the road along Molyneaux Bay
Sullenly without yesterday's winter sun
Lightening the village's ascent from beach to peak

Unrepenting the tide hisses at the road head–on
Pushing it closer by the day to the church
And the woman mowing beneath its yellow sides

The last voice inside to reach the pew by the door
Asked for a reasonable offer to start the bids
A visitor wonders how much is an old church worth

Sombre bush spills over rounded hill and gentle slopes
Where natives fell in headlong rush before axe and fire
And men and animals sucked the land of life

Poets and writers inhabit this chocolate box countryside
Neighbours to cows contained in tree-lined symmetry
Churning their bed of winter mud for the night ahead

The tramper climbs the fence to drink but shies away
Where hoofmarks merge with rancid silt and turbid waters flow
And trout and whitebait struggle against the odds

Skylarks as far as North Cape take up a song that varies little

This is my special garden of memories poem.
My Garden isn't very big and wouldn't win a prize,
But when I take a look around I see more than meets the eyes.
Each plant inspires a thought or two of someone dear to me,
A garden full of memories is what I always see.
This rose a gift from a dear friend, to soothe my heavy heart,
In memory of my beloved, since because of death we are apart.
The pink carnations over there, remind me of the day,
I took the cuttings carefully from my Mother's Day bouquet.
Those beautiful geraniums, just like a scarlet sea,
Descended from a single plant, my mother gave to me.
I look across the lawn towards two narled old apple trees,
Planted by my children when on their hands and knees.
Each spring the purple Irises will always bring to mind,
My lovely friend Patricia, ever thoughtful and so kind.
Forget-me- Nots, how aptly named - prolific as a weed,
And I can still recall the day Sue planted them from seed.
In autumn when I need some blooms to brighten up the house,
I choose the white chrysanthemums - a favourite of my spouse.
And even in the winter when the frost is on the ground,
In the silhouette of bare branched trees, more memories can be found.
It is much the same with everything,
As seasons come and go,
Each plant a living monument to those I used to know.
I've given lots of plants away, to friends and family,
I wonder if one day, those plants, will remind them all of me?

Lovely and so true of garden memories.

Good morning Silverdays
I really enjoyed your poem A Special Garden. It was like being transported into another world. Thank you for posting it.

Thanks Pauacat!