Sunday, July 8, 2012

May Garden

May noon
in my garden,
cutting back shrubs
singed and broken
from Spring storms,
the savagery of salt laden winds
etched on every leaf.

Beneath blue skies
I sit under the Cherry tree,
its twisted limbs,  rust curled leaves
extend to the healing sun.

Crows call from the Scots Pine
House martins swoop the eaves
apple blossoms burst pink
the surge of a lawn mower
the hiss of a hose
drone of a drill
a bee bumbling
as a gentle breeze
turns my page.

My cat dozes on dappled leaves,
shadows dance the deck
the yellow rose smiles
in the shade of the honeysuckle,
the last bluebells sing
to foxgloves standing tall.
Nature is optimistic,
it dares to bloom again.

Jets chalk a diamond in the sky,
life’s journeys overlap
but I am glad
to be home.


  1. AnonymousJuly 08, 2012

    It's a great feeling, being home again. Fine writing Maire

  2. Rach,
    Thank you, it is good to be home in my garden again!! Maire x