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.
4-19-2011 Reflecting in the wishing well
My fear subsided,for just a moment it seemed,
I reach towards the stars,my mind becomes in flight,
My feet ungrounded, my heart I am moving,
Soaring high in the sky,my eyes are wide open,
Weak shaking has passed, Last years fallen leaves pile in the corners,
New growth of the Spring appears,as if coming out of hiding.
I smell the new breath blossoming,only memories of the winter exist.
I have opened a new door,one which I had never opened before,all details become clearer,
I feel as if I’ve rested more than I have slept,my feet swishing in a cool,clear,stream, that of the wishing well.
My reflection with the sunshine at my back ,superimposes my shadow of my imagination, I want to tack up copies around public message boards.