Words from a Garden
Thoughts & ideas prompted by a visit to the Gibberd Garden
written by
Hazel Taylor

 WOMAN AND CHILD   

                                                     

She stands in agony

but tall and firm.

She hold her child with pride

and fierce tenacity.

Against the world

clasping her only possession,

resolute, protecting,

she will nurture him to her dying breath.

 

 

 

SIR FREDRIC

 

Your ghost looks on,

face of chiselled stone revealed.

Quiet rooms

ever evolving.

Fragments of you

living, dying, regenerating

in a never-ending stream.

 

BROOK

 

Slow water

for ever moving

from here to where-ever

from peace to urban jungle

 

GIRL-WOMAN

 

Naked

unashamed

budding sexuality unfurling -

facing the future with hope.

 

THE SWING

 

It takes me back so many years,

as I work my way up

and see the moving world.

A wooden fort - my childhood fort.

Willows and long grass - bygone days,

long, sun-filled, lazy days,

back then, but only yesterday.

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