The Garden, that was my domain

Gold cherry

By Jane Hyphen

Mon, 10 Feb 2025
  • 289 reads
10 comments
 

 

The garden, that was my domain

It’s where I framed my worst paintings

Held my rival’s head beneath the soil

Until his gist went limp

And hid inside a quilt of clashing colours

 

It’s where I watched the rebels rise

Let the best of them defeat me

And where the weather charmed me

Blew the tears from my eyes

And blued my flesh in rough chaps

 

It’s where I dug up stony secrets

And drained their power

Upon a bed of sleeping sage

And where I admired my enemies

And cut them in the glory of their prime

 

It’s where I sewed my bad ideas

To the surface of a green sea

Only to see them swallowed by a storm

It’s where I was forgiven

By a clean slate of ever lighter days

 

It’s where I broke my back upon an urge

To sink, for springtime blaze, some broken tulips 

Before they drowned in the bog soak of autumn 

And broke my heart as silent mouths at night

Consumed the spires of all my larkspur dreams 

 

It’s where I tamed a dragon

And milked its fire enough

To melt the frost upon my spirit

And turned the soil until I folded

To the forces of the season

 

It’s where I left myself alone

And in some enduring legacy

A snowdrop stayed and waved its flag

In peace to break the sting of new days

On the patch where once I landed

 

Certificate U
Poem

Comments

Submitted by celticman on

you have shared your secrets, sewn your crop, harvested your ire and desire, created hard frost and fire. 

 

Submitted by Jane Hyphen on

Thanks celtic, and for the cherries. 

 

Submitted by Di_Hard on

"And broke my heart as silent mouths at night

Consumed the spires of all my larkspur dreams " Oh, how I sympathise with this!!! Have no idea how one is to grow them without mountains of slug pellets

Have never read about how someone must feel, the loss of a garden. This is brilliant. "Where I landed", I love that.
I hope you are growing to feel for your new garden

 

Submitted by Jane Hyphen on

I've been working a lot in my new garden, even in winter but I also feel a sense of leaving it one day. There is also so much failure and compromise in a garden, push back from nature, that's what I love about it.

Thank you for your comment, Di.

 

Submitted by jolono on

Ive said this many times and i'll probably say this many times again. I dont do Poetry. But when you read something this good, you suddenly like poetry. There's almost something Shakespearean about it ( if thats even a word) but its good. Really good.

 

Submitted by Jane Hyphen on

Thank you so much, Jolono. That is a great and valuable compliment. I sometimes go off poetry too but there is so much to inspire.

 

Submitted by Di_Hard on

As we near Valentine's press of cellophaned roses, this wonderful poem celebrates a very different kind of relationship, and it is Pick of the Day. Please do share if you can

The photo is by Adrei Stroe, found here :
https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:RO_IF_snowdrop_mid-feb_2023.jpg

please change if you want to

 

Submitted by Jane Hyphen on

Thanks for POTD, much appreciated. Those poor skinny cellophane roses, flown all the way from Kenya, no scent. Battery flowers.

 

Submitted by Kris on

(double Wow)!!

I cant conger up any better compliments than the Pro's here have already stated + the Golden Cherries (well deserved)...

As I read this, several times, my 1st thought was grab the sleeping bag & do a weekend camp-out in that garden so I can see & feel some visions lounging in Sage, Tulips & Larkspur... Just say'n blush... I mean that as a compliment cause, as you wrote it, I can live it, as I read it, angel (thank you)*

 

Submitted by Jane Hyphen on

Thank you for reading, Kris. I hope it's warmer where you are for a weekend camp-out, can't wait for spring and summer.