Every Year in October, my father wrote a poem to my mother on her birthday. Many were centred around one of their mutual passions, their garden. I like to think, if they could see our garden this year they might think ‘not bad’. June has been glorious and so, shamelessly here are a few more images to enjoy… oh and of course, Dad’s poem
On your special day, my love, the world is touched with brightness,
As the slow October sun, warm and drowsy as a child,
Floods the garden with rich golden light.
Along the tangled ancient hedge, bees quest and murmur in the ivy flowers,
And butterflies, with quivering wings, grow tipsy on the juice of tumbled apples,
Soft-decaying in the dappled orchard grass.
Late roses, petalled pink and red, beckon from the secret corners which are your delight,
While clematis, unscathed as yet by chilly nights, still clambers skywards,
Gleaming star-like through the shady shrubs.
So, nature smiles Her thanks to you today, remembering your gentleness, and loving care,
And I, who love you very much, smile too, but cannot speak,
Lest foolish tears betray a trembling heart.