The Lost Garden
There’s a garden in the heart of the school,
vanished under the lidless gaze
of a hundred empty windows.
A quadrangle it would have been-
the cherry tree quadrangle-
now two walls are lined by skips,
broken brick, benches rotting in the sun.
Years of tinkering by children
too green fingered for exams have spawned
a thumbnail patch of feral orient here.
Palms and fronds loll from fat pots.
Trellis dry as tinder sags with acer and bamboo.
Ivy tongues stone and the little plaques
that remember the dead.
Below the willow, a map of the world fades,
weeds splitting continents,
and cherry blossom is everywhere,
fragrant and lost, like wasted time.
6 comments:
this reminds me of i beach i was at, long before i was broken down and even before i was a barman!!
there was a small monument on one of the small cliffs facing on to this beach.
a fairly well hidden path from this monument winded down to a secluded balcony, hidden by gorse and bramble and carved straight into the rock face.
sitting their, in this undisturbed and forgotten place felt wonderful. like walking in fresh snow, i had the feeling that nobody had been here before
oh I do hope the lost garden can be reclamed and loved again...
It's not J.M. Barrie's garden, is it? :)
I really like all of this. Lovely concept and use of language, too many nice bits to point out. May even inspire me to pick up the pen which I've had zero luck with for the last month.
"and cherry blossom is everywhere,
fragrant and lost, like wasted time."
like desire.....
Very nice. Did you find a lost ho in the garden by any chance?
a thumbnail patch of feral orient here.
Palms and fronds loll from fat pots.
Trellis dry as tinder sags with acer and bamboo.
Loved the imagery in that part. Makes the place come to color in my mind's eye. Cheers.
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