poesie slumbers
quietly breathing
swathed in white noise
deep in reverie
poesie trances
in an English garden
picture windows
take after an Anglian sky
poesie rolls over
on freshly cut grass
hedged in by Japanese Quince
the color of wild things waking
poesie sighs deeply
someone's pestering
a spiny shrub grows taller
a pond furthermore darkens
poesie tosses and turns
throws back the covers
lavender makes its entrance
into a parasoled cottage
poesie shivers
someone's cuddling
icy rain babbles against the leadlights
like a lot of raucous stones
poesie comforts
between loud mirth
and crushing sadness
fluffy visions inquire
poesie is awoken
drowsily recalling
a dream of a nightmare
a downy rousing to alertness
poesie rubs her eyes
yawns an aspiration
and utters a fact
the dream's gone too fast.
It reminds me of an East Anglian landscape.
This garden’s flat planes of grass give the illusion
Of greater distance,the eye travels down them
To the trees rising at the end.
On this scene my mind superimposes
Other ideas of summer days in hot places
In flat fields stretching on either
Side down to the sea.
My eye enjoys the shape,the flatness
The form,a symbol for so many other gardens
And summer journeys on unknown lanes
Across new landscapes ,delighting in them,
In the space extending,and the trees
A gentle contradiction to the horizontal meadows.
In summer in recent years,what I remember
Is the sun across these long,flat shapes.
Looking at this small garden,I remember
So many things,my eye sees through
What is here,to far beyond
What has passed and what is to come
All contained here.
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