In the garden
June
Plays its own
Music,
Winter melodies
Long forgotten,
Spring’s gentle strains
But a lingering haunt.
June is strident,
Brash,
A clash of cymbals
And resonant bass,
Wild and innovative,
Steady, rhythmic and dependable –
All familiar themes
Yet each year
A fresh composition,
A new interpretation.
Always though, the
Beat is constant:
Amidst the resonance
The innovation,
The dependable,
Throbs the greenery,
The foliage
That clothes the garden
Like a cloaked conductor,
His baton bringing
Order and harmony –
And then, no longer
A baton
But a wand,
As June’s magic
Fills the garden
With roses…
You are ‘feeling’ your garden today. Fun!
Thanks Beverley – I realised it was long time since I had written any poetry
I loved this. Thank you.
Thank you, I enjoyed writing it too
I was just thinking the other day that you had not posted one of your poems for some time Cathy. Thanks for sharing this one with us 😄😘
Thanks Anna, I knew it was a long time and am pleased to have remedied the deficiency. Such a satisfying thing to do…
summer … its tranquility, its heat, its softness to live in the garden … spend a beautiful summer in your pretty garden
Thank you Jacqueline – it was good to share it and see visitors sitting in it and enjoying it on our open days
Beautiful poem, really captures June.
That’s good to hear, Chloris. My Mum disagrees though, not recognising June in any of it (except the roses, I suppose) – but I stand by every word as that’s what June is like here in my garden