A Shady corner of the Patio, with Pots, Palms and Poppies with a little Nemesia.
Whilst I am enjoying the sunshine and over the past few days writing about so many other subjects, this is the place which grounds me. Before I take off once again, into memories and my imagination and the words reach the page.
#LinkyourLife
Nemesia & Poppy Leaves, In my Garden
In a corner of my garden are some of my favourites, I was introduced to Nemesia, by a dear friend and we stocked up on multiple colours, however 4 years later only the purple ones have come back. They brighten up the dullest corner with their tiny flowers.
A Lovely Afternoon in the Garden. Revisiting a favourite childhood book and reading with Teddy.
A storm is brewing, keep things close at hand.
The woods gently sing their quiet song.
The wind is blowing across the top along the land,
Begins it’s low howl it resonates deep and long.
Building itself up, as though to make an entrance,
Bending trees along the way, start to sway and dance.
Reaching it‘s crescendo thunder crashing through the hills,
A dramatic drum roll there it’s mad frenzy sending chills.
Hurling itself up before swirling around the ledges,
Nature singing out from the safety of the hedges,
Cattle calling across the way, invisible in the mist.
Lovers lost to it’s emotions, meeting for their tryst.
Eerily silent once again, this weather is a curse,
before tinkling raindrops signal the next verse.
Thoughts are stirred up taking you right back,
For a moment, you temporarily sidetrack.
Lost up there in music, a world away from your own,
As they rest again exhausted, the hills will sigh and moan.
This is the music of the hills,
Pay close attention to how it feels,
Of all things fierce and good.
Played out by the Orchestra of the Wood.
The Windswept Beach in Lower Largo, Fife Scotland
I thought that I’d plant a wildflower garden,
To discourage the edges around us to harden.
Through the fields cutting a swathe.
For bugs and Bees, there to enslave.
It would have lupins’, the odd cornflower,
To brighten the way and harness it’s power.
Colours bright will form an array,
From your journey your eyes might stray.
Wander there and scatter around,
Seedlings to grow all over the ground.
Opening up before your eyes,
Turn the corner to your surprise.
Along over there by the side of the road,
There to embrace and the wildlife to goad.
A small chance of some encouragement,
From Nature to do her best it’s meant.
To entice from your face a smile to see,
As blossom and pollen fly to be free.
Floating along, up on a cloud,
A cloak over countryside to shroud.
Near pond and stream and hedgerow,
Earthworms and Beetles busy below.
Waiting through winter, for the cold to pass,
Busy creating the green and the grass.
Buds and leaves begin to sprout,
Sharing their beauty once they are out.
Well, a trip to his house and garden actually.
la résidence Claude–Monet, Giverny France.
Some years ago, when we came to this place,
You should have seen the look on my face.
As we drove through the countryside to see,
Where our new adventure would be.
I’d never been to that country before,
Knew it existed in old folklore.
Roads twisted and turned as we travelled,
As our lengthy journey unravelled.
We asked around for directions, we tried
As we may to find it, but the house it would hide.
Lost to the world, our heaven sent,
Derelict, forgotten to it’s detriment.
Then we turned the corner and climbed the hill,
I couldn’t disguise my wonder and thrill.
On arriving I cried, “What have we done?”
Soon realised that it had just begun.
A sight opened up before my eyes,
A place there before us started to rise.
We reached the top and stared in awe,
We had our work cut out here for sure!
Wondering where we’ll start or begin,
Stopping a while to take it all in.
There was rubbish and debris and glass on the floor.
Ivy growing around all over the door.
Trees and grass and nature surround,
Imagination, hope and challenge abound.
We walked around with a camera to click
The state it was in just made me sick.
The door kicked in and hopes were dashed,
Battered and bruised, it had been trashed.
Who could do this to somebody’s house?
The person who did this, what a louse.
But that was how we’d got our chance,
Found this and now I wanted to dance.
You see I thought a new route I’d take
And a thorough search I’d begin to make
Was looking around for a bit of romance.
It seems that Scotland is the new France.
You see that is where we’d planned to go
But something happened then, you know.
I found this place which began to start,
To inspire the mind and pull at the heart
I needed an “off switch” from my work
Which into my down time would often lurk.
Wasn’t sure whether he’d go for it,
But trust me he did and now here we sit.
But we can celebrate the day,
We went about it in our own way.
We found out it was meant to be,
That we would get our house by the sea.
It hasn’t been all plain sailing
Been up here when our health is failing
But breathe in the air and drink in the view
And you’ll be filled with hope anew.
We have such plans for our little place,
But taking it slow at our own pace.
The damaged caused by tree crashes,
Like a phoenix she’ll rise from the ashes.
A good decision that they made on the spur.
The right one to make, they must concur.
They made on that day back when
A new chapter of life, they are planning for them.
So their decision yet to be
A cosy cottage for two or three.
Or as big as a barn, for five or more
Right in the middle a huge front door.
But surrounded by fir and forest,
This is the place they love the best.
Building a fire with stick and log,
Blessed with the nonsense of a beautiful dog.
Way back then didn’t hope to envisage
That we’d feel at home here in this village
Upon people here, we’d come to depend
A few will arrive, with a hand to lend.
So is it a grand plan that they’ve hatched?
Will the roof be slate or thatched.
Up here for some time they’ll stand,
As they survey their piece of land.
Which no-one will ever take away,
It’s theirs to keep and here they’ll stay.
Up there it is their decision
Release from the usual working prison.
Don’t get me wrong, the work here is hard
Since this has for a garden, a bit more than a yard.
Don’t know how long it will take us to mend,
But a long time to finish, it’s not yet the end
Till we reach the top of this winding road
Resting a while from this heavy load.
One day we’ll have a home with such style
Which will have made it all worthwhile.
But till then, we’re remaining still
Just the folks who live on the hill.
byindiablue 