A Walk In the Wild Garden

My response to Imaginary Garden with Real Toads Weeds in the Garden

 

Since spring, blackbirds have been singing

At dawn and dusk, squabbling and serenading;

Exhausted now, the garden is quite still,

Except for occasional echoes of a silvery trill.

Underfoot the earth is soaked,

In my garden trees and shrubs are cloaked

With bindweed, rolling down like lava flow.

The grass is clad in dancing blooms of yellow,

Adorned with raindrops from a recent shower.

A wasp luxuriates on a yawning flower,

Drunk from the heady honeyed pollen

Of burgeoning blossoms into which it’s fallen.

A froth of wild garlic and unfurling fists of grass

Make it almost impossible to pass

Clouds of midges and soft orchestra of bees

Among the sprouting branches of fruit trees.

 

© Kim M. Russell, 2016

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Image found on www.dreamstime.com

20 thoughts on “A Walk In the Wild Garden”

  2. There is a lovely languorous feel throughout the whole piece, half day dream, half intoxication. It’s tightly written and conveys mood and imagery equally beautifully.

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  3. I love the imagery, and wish I had it all around me. I know most people like their gardens neat and somewhat controlled. I just love seeing Nature doing her thing as her own pace–she looks glorious, like your poem.

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