The Garden - Poem by Win Gray
There was a flower garden that I had been to
Where birds sang sweetly
In the evening breeze to the gentle whisper of the wind
Their glorious chorus travelled from above
Where leaves rustled, dancing
Listening to the melody makers
Whose welcoming chorus had invited me to stay a while.
Led to the middle of the garden, I relaxed on the well-manicured lawn
And gently rubbed my fingers on its carpet
That tickled the palm of my hands.
Then inhaled a world full of glorious fragrance
Of roses that perfumed the air.
Simultaneously, to my right, I gave my attention
To the trickle of a stream that was angered every ten seconds
Due to a plop, accompanied by the animation of childish laughter
And the pitter-patter of feet after stern commands
to desist from alarming the fish
Helpful hands brought unfamiliar scents to me
One of which I was told was as bright as the sun
Its stem rough and hairy,
Leaves large and rough with coarse jagged edges,
Largest flower I have ever felt.
Given another, I felt five soft petals that tore when I pulled them
And a smooth long style that became watery when I squeezed it
Curious hand put my fingers to my tongue, citrus-like,
Interesting flower, it had pollen that made me achoo;
Hibiscus I was told.
I dipped my hand in the wicker basket, placed to my left
And felt a prick, that made me slowly and timidly lowered my hand again.
Greeted by small petals and heart-shaped leaves
I tried to rub my hands down its stem
Then a protective voice warned me of the prickly bougainvillea.
I will be eternally grateful to be led to that tropical garden
On that beautiful summer day
By one who knew the way
To a world that I breathe in wondrous, lifelong scents, nose- tickling,
And listened to soulful soothing sounds, ear-awakening
I will cherish those marvellous memories made
In a garden that I would love to see.
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