Fellows garden - Poem by: Rosanna Garland

 Fellows garden

The sun not warm enough, the wind to cooling

all too quiet and noiseless, before a foot

of a dove squelches a green bloomed patch of grass;

too green for my thoughts. 

 

I watch the birds circle and peck, watching them

so often like they do us in drawn circles,

how I watched you once close your eyes before lilies. 

As I lap sun, bees and golden nectar

three doves waddle an open disco display

before me and I think of how I watched you

bend blades of grass with your determined grey feet. 

 

I want to say I am alive, I’m full

of moss, waterlilies, green and crunchy leaves;

but those doves begin to nutter in their beaks,

their squawks a chuckle at me, or those outside

placing tokens of gold in collectors hands

and I’m a springtime bubble inside stoned walls.

 

http://rosannagarlandblog.com/2012/08/05/poem-fellows-garden/

Related articles:

• Country diary: Cadboll, Highlands: When doves cry (guardian.co.uk)
• “Peninsula” – Poem by Heather Whitley Gibson (tigergroves.wordpress.com)
• Fellows garden:Poem by Rosanna Garland by Heather Whitley Gibson (tigergroves.wordpress.com)

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