Brian Joseph Dickenson

Rookie (Not dead yet. Born in the first half of the last century. / Liverpool, England)

My Garden - Poem by Brian Joseph Dickenson

Pottering in the garden,
Talking to the flowers.
Pulling weeds and cutting grass
Gives me many happy hours.

Watching seeds that I have sown
Break slowly through the soil.
Unfurling tiny tender leaves,
As they upwards toil.

Waiting for the frost to cease
And the earth to come alive.
As bees wake from their winter sleep
And venture from their hive.

To see the wondrous butterfly,
Emerge from its cocoon,
It stretches wings up to the sun,
Then it’s gone; too soon.

It’s my ecological oasis,
My haven; my retreat;
It’s where I love to sit and watch
All the wildlife meet.


Comments about My Garden by Brian Joseph Dickenson

There is no comment submitted by members..



Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?



Poem Submitted: Thursday, March 23, 2006



[Report Error]