I will miss this place

May 1999

I will miss this place,

At only the beginning of May the sun and the garden are shining,

The colours are really brightening up now,

Bright, Enthusiastic Yellows,

Vigorous reds,

Lusheous purples,

It's so quiet here,

Only the silent sounds of the breeze through the trees,

and the birds singing in those trees.

The clicking, tapping noise of Kya and she rolls over and over in the gravel path is quite pleasing.

And whilst admiring the innocence of this wonder,

I laugh to myself,

Remembering how perhaps it is not so innocent...

The old wooden picnic table,

Now supporting various plastic plants pots,

Smiles at me as it reminisces one other sunny morning...

So many of my summers were spent here in this garden,

And summer parties as well!

Is the wolf with the red eyes still hiding in the conifer?

I guess I will never know.

We have been here so long that six very different motors have been here,

And left here,

Though, one still remains, to haunt me,

Even two husbands have loved here and left here.

All of my memories will never leave this garden,

All the secrets will stay here forever.

This gareden will laught at it's naive new borders, who believe this garden is theirs.