Garden Of Gold

Allotment Allure.
For five arduous decades, he obeyed his employer’s commands
Then he had to choose a pastime, to occupy his ‘retired’ hands.
He was lured into the allotment, with talk of tasty ‘home grown food’
The produce would be ‘more healthy’, and the exercise would ‘do him good’.
He now neatly cuts the hedges, and the lawn he gives a trim
Each is done so precisely, that’s just typical of him.
He cultivates various vegetables, to enrich many an evening dinner
If they were put into a show, they’d definitely be a winner.
His carefully tended leeks, give distinct flavour to broths or pies
And as for his bulbous onions, you wouldn’t believe their size.
He spends many long hours digging, pulling out weeds with their roots
In summer his poor feet swelter, in his muddy wellington boots.
When strenuous digging aggravates, his back’s arthritic pain
He’ll potter in the greenhouse, even in the pouring rain.
And in the chilly wintertime, when frost or fog still lingers
He sorts plant pots in the shed, with nearly frozen ‘green fingers’.
He tells the Mrs “It keeps me healthy”, to justify his outdoor choice
But she’s realised his motive, it’s to escape her nagging voice.
( Amal Reetpet )

My Garden Is My Sanctuary.
As I look out to my garden
I feel a sense of pride
It really is a lovely room
Except it is outside.
Where lovely things mix and match
And greenery fills the walls
The sound of trickling water
Coming from the gold fish pond.
I love the sight of stones and rocks
And driftwood and tree ferns too
The sounds of all my chimes
I know you would like it too.
( Marie Church )

Sweet William.
When I pick up Sweet Williams
And inhale their spiced perfume
I see them on the window sill
Of our tiny old back room.
Their sweet indented petals
Coloured every shade of pink
Glowed so bright in that urban gloom
They almost made me blink.
They’d grown on Dad’s allotment
An expanse of air and sun
Along with fruits and vegetables
He brought home for my Mum.
Sweet Williams bring it home to me
I’m still the child I used to be.
( Frances King )

Garden Of Gold.
I walk through the garden
On this warm summer’s day
To smell the flowers
That grandma raised.
In the middle
Of this garden of gold
Stood this one
Single red stem rose.
The rose means so many things
From the ones you receive on your wedding day
To the one you get on Valentine’s Day.
But this single rose standing here today
Represents the love grandma gave.
From the love she gave
When she planted it that day
To the love she gave us
Each and every day.
So when you pass this garden of gold
Remember the love that this rose holds.
( Lois E. Felder )