At this time when many of us are busying ourselves in the garden having a tidy up and maybe planting some vegetables and flowers, outside our Creator is still at work in the meadows, hedgerows, moors and even on a cliff edge.
Two Gardeners
Mowers chug and strimmers whine
To tidy grass so neat
While spade and fork will dig in line
The soil beneath our feet
Along the way not far from here
A second gardener toils
Where cut is made by passing deer
And worm will grade the soils
Best-kept garden prize is given
To lines of ordered green
Sterile ‘by the book’ design
The best that Chelsea’s seen
Yet closely look at the roadside spread
Find perfect layout there
Campion, mustard and hogweed head
And wild hop climbing hair
Our best blooms are pride of place
For everyone to see
Place hedge and deck to show it off
And perhaps a bonsai tree.
The Creator’s bloom for best in show
Is where you cannot walk
His hand has placed it out of view
In realm of gull and auk
We strive so hard for perfect lie
Of vista, sham and shows
But behind a rock on seacliff high
A single pink thrift grows.
Return to Poetry page