Best Kew Poems
A walk foreshortened by the Thames
that once would flow through field and moor –
now stitched and patched with dirty hems,
a city’s outskirts of the poor.
You used to walk here, years ago
when May put on her blossom-show.
But Progress is a subtle sweep
that changes worlds while we’re asleep.
No one seemed to take much note at first.
Old-timers on park benches passed a comment or two,
Somebody wrote a letter to the local rag,
but no one (who mattered, that is)
really seemed to mind.
Of course, you will always have
your bellyachers and woolly romantics
with nothing better to do than whine
about the way things are going, -
the loss of bird life, the silenced dawn chorus,
the vanishing English hedgerow,
you know the sort of thing.
The leaves began falling long before autumn.
"Funny," they said, "curious," "that's one for the book."
This was all very interesting for botanists,
environmentalists, chemists and the like.
Such words as "pollution," "soil erosion"
and "deprivation" were bandied about,
but no one was much the wiser though
the experts were agreed on one point.
"Photosynthesis provides the basis of all life."
This was interesting but nothing like
as interesting as the favourite for Ascot,
the football results, the Top of the Pops,
the late night thriller or the FT index.
All that changed.
Foresters and timber merchants became concerned
about the decaying cores of many trees.
The government became concerned, too,
(not so much about the fate of the trees as such
as about the effect the scarcity of wood
was having on the paper industry and inflation).
Then the doom-watchers caught the scent
and there was talk of an imminent ecological collapse,
but the man in the street still
passed it all off as the usual load of rot.
Then Kew Gardens, Epping Forest, Central Park,
the Everglades and the Bois de Boulogne
went the way of all wood.
A tramp, locally known as Nat the Nut,
was found in the village cemetery gibbering,
Before being bundled into an ambulance,
he was heard to say:
"With these very ears I heard 'em groan,
and this is what one of 'em said:
'Tonight we are dying, yew and I,
and the morrow sees us dead.'
And the willows wept in the valleys
and the trees on the hills pined away."
When the harvest failed,
the church bells tolled
for a woe no man could gainsay,
for none doubted then the trees were lost
or held it was only they.
i am not one to probe closet or dresser
I am safe with your secrets if any
as my mother asked me on her last day to get the gun to kill her
I kew all my childhood where it was and the speculum to abort the child
and I am the perfect guest and want to be alone in my dreams
of childhood to recoil and entertain a conversation with a world
In Kew Gardens I feast on
daffodils and swans and honk-
ing geese in turf protection mode
and one spectacular show
from a strutting peacock’s tail,
its color chart exploding
against the day’s gray weather.
On warmer days Kew is packed
with mums and dads and kiddies
running about or being pushed
in prams. Today’s marginal
weather has cut the numbers.
I am drawn to a park’s promises
in crowd depleting weather. .
In youth I’d sit on a bench
beneath a chestnut tree and feel
fully protected from rain
by the natural umbrella
of thick leaves above my head
or, barefooted, tramp through wet
grass after the midday storm.
In the misted gray of not
quite Spring Kew Garden isn’t
in full bloom but I can feel
the promise of warmer days and,
with luck, the persistent need
of a peacock to impress
his ladies with the full bloom
of his magnificent tail.
mallards... a pair
koi carp can't compete... duck feet
strang orange shapes
~
sunshine... summertime
fickle spring... climate changing
muted cuckoos
~
Jenny wren... begging
let summer have its way
seasons confound spring
~
first orange tip
fluttered by... seeking partners
tortoiseshell denied
~
sloe... blackthorn blossoms
cover branches... bumper crop
sloe gin... matures
~
the rose of love... red
a plantation... perfumed peace
goodwill offerings
~
small cabbage white...
large cabbage white... survivors
man persecutes all
~
badger road kills... lies...
badger baiting kill... no thought
chucked onto roads
~
the gardening
red squirrels... setting acorns
galleons can thank
~
a twinkle... a star
no... the magic in your eyes
casting true love spells
~
the smell of cut grass
tossed... laid out to dry... fodder
winter sustenance
~
the wolf calls... howling...
you will not hear one cry
only man cries wolf
saffron... stamens
a tasty orange surprise
sunshine on a plate
~
why do we cut grass
clip our hedges... keep them neat
habitat destroyed
~
a speckled wood
dappled shadows dancing
no... a butterfly
~
kew gardens... flora
dandelions... speedwell... moss...
natures eye candy
~
leaf cutter bees
slugs... snails... caterpillars...
unpaid gardeners
~
tulips fading... done
bluebells charming... chiming on
grateful are the bees
~
koi carp now feeding
mallard ducks most welcomed
a pond to ponder
~
pond skaters... a joy...
blackbird bathing... pigeon drinks
hark... a dusk solo
~
darkness enhanced
glowworms... fireflies... fairies
natural raves... fun
~
dive into the depths
swim with dolphin... surf the waves
sunset calling time
~
kelp forest... waves...
syncronised perfection...
fry sanctuary...
The old lady planted roses near the corner by the driveway
She never planted roses by the door
I remember once she told me, "Bees come out to get the nectar"
And a bee sting can be deadly or quite sore
Instead, she planted herbs along the walkway to her cottage
You'd pass by, the scent was rather nice
Rubbing rosemary and lemon grass and sage against your trousers
Sometimes you would even walk by twice
She had hollyhocks and primrose, a classic English garden
Lots of fragrant trees and bushes there as well
There were cedars by the windows and hyacinth close by
If she even had a lawn, you couldn't tell
There were irises and tulips, daffodils and more
And great bushes of white lavender abound
Not only was the lawn gone, with the bushes and the trees
I bet from inside you'd nary hear a sound
Around the back the same thing, exactly as the front
Herbs and plant life, and I'd say maybe more
Than all the plants in Englands Kew Gardens have to see
And more lilacs by the walkway by the door
The vents from down the basement blew through cedars and the lilacs
Sending warming scents around the clustered yard
There were windows to the basement, blocked by flowers and the trees
And to see in was really rather hard
The one day I remember when I came out to the house
Is one I know I'll not forget
For walking down the pathway with a policeman on each side
Was the old lady with a look of deep regret
It seems the scented flowers and the bushes and the trees
Provided scents to hide the smells from deep inside
The air was vented out directly through the flowers
The house was just a grow op in disguise
A
pot plant,
this cycad-
now four metres
wide
takes
living
in its stride-
Kew's long-lasting
pride
Encephalartos altensteinii
brought to Kew in 1775 from SA,grows one inch a year.
Dale Patrick Chihuly
His creations sell for mega sponduli
A sculptor whose work is really first class
I adore his flowers made from blown glass
Last week my son went to the exhibition in Kew gardens London and sent me the most spectacular photographs which have introduced me to this amazing artist. We have now booked to go to London to see the exhibition for ourselves and my son has booked us tickets as an early Christmas present
10/7/19
Travellor,painter,plant explorer
With her coloured-filled fauna and flora-
With ambition to display for public view
A bequest to house them at Royal Kew.
Now readily available,to me and you
Tribute to an extraordinary artist
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Marianne_North
From
the
greatest
to the least-
God's gift to us all
Inspired by Edourdo Paolozzi's bronze at Kew,London yesterday
http://vads.bath.ac.uk/large.php?
pic=swlrh43&cmd=advsearch&page=1&mode=boolean&words=public&field=all&oper=or&idSearc
h=boolean&PMSA=1&vadscoll=Public+Monuments+and+Sculpture+Association
Why did it have to be me?
me that you cheated on
me who slept with you
me who fell for your end 2 times
Why did you say i love you?
when you kew it was a lie
when you were probably using me
When I thought it was true when it wasn't
Why did you use me?
because you knew I loved you enough to get what you wanted?
Exactly,WHY would you do it to me?
i know you don't love me like you said
I know you were cheating ALL ALONG
but why would you say i love you
When it wasn't true?
just tell me why cuz i REALLY need to know..
Cry
freedom,
with justice-
let my people
go
Inspired by Jenny Phillips(b 1949 Australia) botanical water colour of this flower seen an an
exhibition at Kew ,London this weekend
www.jennyphillips.org/artist.php
Paper lanterns carrying spirits of the dead
Wind their way toward the Sea of Japan;
A procession bearing its own light,
Silently, to a destination without moments.
Moments, the interface through which life flows
From now to then, are put back like old videos
To be on recall; the deeper the collection,
The more likely reruns become loops.
A sign above the bar promises, “Free beer tomorrow”.
Tomorrow, alas, never a moment, but a construct
Residing near yesterday, is as misunderstood as
The Hookers of Kew; pressing, mounting.
Copyright 2021, Paul Thomson
O'er many a stormy water,
between raging storms we see
a time of peace, tranquility,
a calmness - time to be.
When we think we travel the road alone,
when life is all despair;
reach out to distant far flung friends
and let us show we care!
We may not be able to lend a hand,
but we can a friendly ear.
By listening, give you voice - to make a stand,
allow that shed of tear.
To know we are not by ourself,
find things in life are 'fun'.
To recognise we're not on a shelf,
Our lives but just begun.
For each has a place upon this earth,
though sometimes it's hard to see;
but if we kew what to expect from birth -
we might not want to be.
Those who help others are angels,
that dwell within this world;
each has his own wrangles,
but when shared they become unfurled.
So I repeat
When we think we travel the road alone,
when life is all despair;
reach out to distant far flung friends
and let us show we care!
daddy,daddy
whos gone away
never coming back
your gone to stay
never did
i know you
but i always
seemed to cry
hearing wounderful
things about you
and whiping tears
from mothers eyes
always kew
you were watching
over us
vibrations in my mind
forever in our
hearts
theday
will come
when we can
all be together
together as one.