Friends In My Garden: Camellia and Pansy

I recently went to Queensland (see my previous post) to escape the cold weather here in the hills out of Perth in Western Australia. Now that I have returned it is such a delight to open my curtains on these winter mornings and, despite the rain and cold, or maybe because of them, to be greeted by these beauties.

For those of you who enjoy my poetry, I’ve taken the words from my collection, Friends In My Garden, and matched them with these photos.

All of the poems are about real friends or family, depicted as things found in my garden, so, Camellia and Pansy were written for people who have been, (some still are) important in my life. Pansy is now twenty five but this was written when she was two.

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Busy Bee and Evocative

I receive heart-warming responses from some of you for my poetry, so here are a couple more. I may have posted ‘Evocative’ before; please forgive me if that’s so. It’s one of my favourite poems and one that I hope you will all enjoy. Please let me know if my images stir your memory.

If you’re not a ‘Busy Bee’ yourself (I’m certainly not one these days) I’m sure you will recognise a friend who is, in this poem. Please pass it on to them with love and appreciation; where would we be without them?

BUSY BEE

She buzzes about

ever so busy

my busy bee

darting from daisies

to dahlias and dianthus

dusting them all

with pernicketiness.

Collecting pollen

and flicking it in flowers,

where would my garden be

without her?

EVOCATIVE

Sweaty armpits, old gym shoes,

potatoes rotting in a cupboard,

dirty nappies, pig manure,

a drunk, lolling in his vomit.

Burning tyres, gutted homes,

flames roaring through the bush.

Fried onions, vanilla beans,

bacon and toast and percolating coffee.

Leather seats in a new car,

rain on parched earth,

a baby, fresh from the bath.

Eucalypt leaves on a wet day in London.

Yardley perfume that granny used,

sweet peas, picked from a garden.

Old spice after-shave,

the coat you always wore.

Friends In My Garden: Banished Rhus, A Pair of Doves

Today I intended to write about our cruise around Lake Windermere. Unfortunately I’m using a different computer and the photos won’t show up as I want them to. Instead I will share more of my poems from my book, ‘Friends In My Garden’ and hope that you like them .

I wrote these poems for friends and family, depicting each one as something found in a garden. ‘Banished Rhus’, as the name implies, was one person who I thought was my friend but, while staying at her home for a few days I realised that she was actually not a friend at all. If you have been badly hurt by someone who you believed to be your friend, I’m sure you will relate to this poem. You might even want to pass it on to her or him, although I never did. Banishing her from my garden of friends seemed the best tactic.

The second poem was written for a couple who visited Australia each year from their home in England. Sadly, he has since passed away, but for all of you who are in happy relationships, or who have benefited from a loving marriage or partnership in your life, I hope you enjoy this. You might even want to share it with your loved one.

As always, I’d love to read your comments which you can write in the ‘comment’ box at the bottom of the page.

Banished Rhus

I had a rhus tree

with leaves that were brilliant

enticing

inviting

admired from a distance.

I stepped too close

she attacked

spewing poison from her leaves

and dripping fiery sap.

Instant

was my reaction.

Even now the pain recurs

the rash appears

on tissue scar

when I recall

the venom of her wrath.

She’s gone of course

rooted out

and if ever I see her again

I’ll take care

to keep my distance

from false vindictive rhus.

A Pair Of Doves

Two white doves

return every year.

I love to hear their cooing

a gentle sound that soothes the soul.

While he’s out during the day

she tidies and titivates the nest

chats with other birds

gathers garden goodies for tea

then fluffs out her feathers to look her best

when he returns.

They share a meal

and snuggle down for the night.

Ripples of kindness float across the darkness

encompassing me.

Friends In My Garden: Hyacinth and Peony

Life has been hectic for the last few weeks, hence my lack of postings on this site. I am keen to return to the travel tales from England but for today, I hope to please those of you who enjoy my poems, especially those from my first book, ‘Friends In My Garden.’

Hyacinth was written for a friend who lost her daughter in tragic circumstances. It was the kind of situation from which a mother would never totally recover but this lady was/is always graceful and composed. Whenever I read this poem I think of her with love and admiration.

If you know someone who bravely bares a tragic loss, you might like to share this poem with them.

HYACINTH

Hyacinth is a fragile flower

sometimes seeming aloof

in her need for seclusion.

The colours of her petals change

from purple on the sad days

to whitely unobtrusive

when she’s hiding from the world

or palest blue

in times of her remembering.

For the memory and the loss

will always remain

despite her efforts to hide the pain.

The image she presents

of calmness and restraint

is it a facade?

I think I hear her crying

in the emptiness of night

when she’s alone with her sorrow.

She’s determined to not falter

but I should remember

to tend more often

and with more care

my saddened, delicate hyacinth.

Peony was written for another brave lady. Sadly she didn’t manage to overcome cancer, but she always looked elegant and despite her condition, she was determined to live life to the full. I only really had one meeting with her but was so impressed that I sat down as soon as she left and composed this poem in her honour.

‘Friends In My Garden’ was published in 1995. Sadly, my Peony died about a year later, but I still think of her. It’s a sad poem, but I wanted to express my admiration for her determination and for the joy she radiated, despite the suffering she must have endured. I hope that my words give comfort and encouragement to others who are facing serious illness.

PEONY

This morning there appeared

a flower I’ve not seen before,

a peony.

The climate here is harsh

for so delicate a plant

but to see her blooming

you’d not be aware

of her struggle for survival.

Elated,

blossoms in profusion,

the image she presents.

I know she lost her petals

felt her trunk grow weak

but sun gave her warmth

rain fell softly on her leaves

the one who cares

for flowers and trees

nourished her with love

and hence

today

she came to grace my garden.

Friends In My Garden: Oak and A Time For Tears

The following poems were written for a man I once thought was the centre of my universe. It’s almost nineteen years since I shed those tears and I’ve found new, strong and lasting love. This post is for those of you who think that your life ends with the loss of one love. It changes and you change but it can get better. You just have to pick up the pieces (probably best to discard the not so good ones) and face life again. As usual, please pass one or both of these on to anyone you think might like to read it/them.

OAK

Rooted firmly in the ground

my oak

is tall and strong

protecting creatures

that snuggle into his trunk

and hide in his leaves.

Wide he spreads his branches

and so high

his canopy is sometimes in the clouds.

I sit in his shade

and lean on him.

His bigness can be overwhelming,

too long in his shadow

I shrink and fade

then I need to walk in the sun

content

secure

knowing he is there

in the centre of my garden.

A TIME FOR TEARS

Flowing like a waterfall

these tears I shed for you.

At night I wake to wrenching sobs

my pillow wet

my soul bereft;

I want to sleep forever.

Do you cry too?

Does guilt grip you with remorse

for leaving me

for what you too have lost?

Perhaps one day

my heart will mend

my tears no longer fall.

One day I might not

think of you with sadness

but after forty years

I know there’ll never come a time

when I can say

‘I don’t love you anymore.’

Friends In My Garden: Exotic Bird

I hope that many of you have at least one person in your life who fits this image of a good friend. Mine has been a bit off colour lately so this is a tribute to her, to remind her how much I appreciate her.

Please feel free to send this poem on to the exotic bird(s) in your garden of friends. My words are free for you all to enjoy and share. If you would like to leave me a comment that would be great, thank you.

EXOTIC BIRD

Exotic is my little bird

gorgeous her plumage

of brilliant emerald

and sapphire

and the richest ruby red.

She’s something of a loner

rather shy

and quiet until she sings,

then she leads the chorus.

Her voice fills my garden

with the sound of crystal music.

I love to sit and listen

not only to her song

her words are never wrong.

We share a tranquil moment

rest for a while on a bench

chat about friends and daily affairs.

A peck on my cheek

a feathery wave

and she flies home to her nest.

Friends In My Garden: A Cute Little Snowdrop

The following poem was written for one of my granddaughters when she was about four years old. Many other grannies bought my book because they had their own little snowdrop – a sweet child with blonde hair and that entrancing giggle we hear from a happy little girl. Mine is now in her twenties, a charming young woman, she still fills my heart with joy when she comes to visit my garden.

If you are fortunate to have a Snowdrop in your garden of friends and family I hope you enjoy this poem and that you will pass it on to your own Snowdrop even if she is no longer little.

A Cute Little Snowdrop

A Tinkerbell laugh

an ‘Aren’t I beautiful?’ grin.

Pretty petals

soft and light

purest white

little snowdrop

shakes her head

shimmers her leaves

twirling and dancing on tippy toe

swaying and bowing in the breeze.

Friends In My Garden: Wings Of Turquoise

Like the other poem which I have posted today, this was written for a friend who had been in pain, emotionally and physically. I wanted to depict a woman who was once artistic, creative, talented in many ways, but who was trapped in a marriage of violence and humiliation. It applies to any women and girls who are beaten and made to feel inadequate or worse, by men who bully them. To see such women blossom once freed from that sort of environment, gives joy to my soul and theirs. Please pass this on to anyone you think might benefit from and appreciate it. The words are mine but the message is for everyone. As always, I would love to receive your comments, especially if this poem gives courage to someone you know.

Wings Of Turquoise

Is this the same bird I once knew,

a dove beige pale and sadness grey

of shrivelled soul

caged in fear

feathers pecked

and head held low

to hide her pain?

Now she glides on wings of turquoise

golden tipped

a shout of sunshine in her laugh

her eyes sing ‘Joie de vivre.’

Fly high my friend

now free now strong

love your life

delight in your dreams

soar on winds of happiness.

Friends In My Garden: Chestnut Tree

Today I have gone back to my book of poetry, ‘Friends In My Garden,’ for a poem that deals with family and friends who were grieving. ‘Chestnut Tree’ applies to men who suddenly lose a child, sometimes through death, but it could also be through family breakdown or some other kind of separation, hence the ‘branch in youthful bloom.’ The men for whom I wrote this struggled on never really recovering from that loss but hiding their grief, grateful for any moment of happiness that came their way. It’s a sad poem. I offer it to you to pass on if you wish. My poems were written to be shared and many readers told me of their gratitude for my ability to put into words the things they wanted to say but didn’t know how.

CHESTNUT TREE

Braced

upright

his strong side

fronts the world.

Once the chestnut tree stood firm

thinking nought could shatter him

but look to the scar he bares

where ripped from his heart

a branch in youthful blossom

crashed to the ground

one winter’s night.

His days now greet the morning mist

relished is each ray of sunshine.

Friends In My Garden: Zinnia

When I was writing poems for my book, ‘Friends In My Garden,’ I had a few young female friends for whom this one was suitable. The sort of people who never seem to tire and who make you laugh whenever you are with them. I’m sure you all know and love someone like my

Zinnia

Exuberant is Zinnia

full of zest and vigour

radiating merriment

she paints a smile on passing lips

this zippy zany flower.