by Roy K Austin
Honeysuckle to the flame
and all her spring song,
floribunda to the same
and the summer long.
Cool shadows on the dial and gnomon
grey the hair of my little woman
and the winter coat of my dog… …
the hawthorn that ignores the fence
will substitute again as log… …
How beautiful the white and black
princess and the prince of thieves
who use the arbour with the dove,
and the robin that I love
ever present, bonded by a glance
and in a kind of trance
‘ home sweet home ’ -
the garden reminds me
of where we are from ;
to bough and branch my spirit cleaves
reluctant as the falling leaves.
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