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.
