Tuesday, 23 October 2012
My Secret Garden
When I was a child I lived in a small house,
With a secret garden out the back…
It was an old soldiers cottage that my father lovingly restored.
My mother loved to garden.
I had a dog who followed me about.
We would wander around and get lost in the garden…
There were the prickly rose bushes that we’d push past,
Trying to avoid the thorns.
The scent of roses now, takes me back…
Behind the shed were climbing vines,
Some were passionfruit and some chokos.
I loved the way their tangled extensions groped,
To find something to touch and wrap around.
My favourite place was the giant weeping willow.
My dog and I could hide inside the long curtain of branches,
It was dark and quiet inside,
Our very own world where no one could find us…