David Bosanquet Gardens

You are beautiful when the facsimile is complete, flowers resplendent, and the focus of eyes hungry for lost decorum, the patterned tables, chairs, wrought iron ornaments, mark a harmony with the weaving weeds in the terrace, and so too the planted trellis, but now, in early spring, while your neat rectangle of water remains drained, I can't help but notice the sad fountain- a sputtering pipe, exposed bone, and the garden falls apart.