This little rhyme started life as a love poem to my wife. When she died I rewrote it in celebration of the other love of my life. It was published in the Festival of Chichester anthology 2017
Our Garden
Earth’s dark hibernal curfew succumbs to vibrant spring
And blossom-gravid fruiting buds of life rekindled sing.
Now, Common Sturnus sorties out for mayflies on the wing
And grubs, his greedy starlets have demanded him to bring.
That fount of social balm that we’ve been restive for is here,
He’s warmed our pocket plot and nudged her life back into gear.
Our living space extends to let this joie de vivre come near;
And, sweet pea, rose and dahlia miraculously appear.
We’ve watched the seed unfurl and swell, now God unveils his store:
Cos leaves, Savoys, Olympians, Valencias by the score
And canes borne down with lusciousness, red, gold and black galore.
Then, fiery Stag Horn Sumac shows to prolong the décor!
Luminescent emerald fades to depleted gold
As the cool thief of fruitfulness contemptuously takes hold
And wilful frosty fingers wrap his booty in white mould.
Now, plucky Winter Pansies melt my eyes and scorn the cold.
Thus the seasons spend themselves, while Time keeps silent score.
Throughout our humble garden, with its year split into four,
Earth flaunts her wondrous cycle to inspire us ever more
With the miracle of life, enacted right outside our door.