A place of beauty.
A place of pride.
A sense of wonder,
The wonder of the outside.

I have spent many a day,
Looking out at my green room.
Where the caterpillars come to play,
And the birds come to groom.

I talk to the wildlife.
And feed my fish.
I show my granddaughter,
The beauty of a wish.

A wish that someday,
My seeds will grow.
And from the ground,
Only beauty will show.

A Plank of wood,
Became my seat.
To where I rested,
My weary feet.

My garden is my escape.
A place I call my own.
It is with a sense of wonder,
I have watched the seeds I‘ve sown.

So many a bud,
Has groweth a flower.
So many a tree,
From which I harness my power.

My mirrors they danced,
In the sun.
Planting my garden,
Has been my passion and fun.

A pot and a shovel,
Have been my tools.
But my love of nature
Has dictated the rules.

I loveth my garden,
But the time has come,
To pass the beauty,
Onto another one.

N.B – I wrote this for my father-in-law who loved his garden but had to sell his house when it got too much for him. He used to take my daughter out there and they would admire the wildlife and the flowers together.