Garden Of Memories....

Garden of memories….

Theres a corner in my garden
Thats only known to me.
A secret place where I can go
And no-one else can see.

Its hidden by some bushes
And sharp briar thorns abound
The only place on Gods good earth
Where solitude can be found.

To me the place is sacred,
For buried `neath the earth
Lies a thousand lovely memories
That I`ve picked up since birth.

Tho’ thorns of bougainvillea
May ***** and tear my skin,
My heart just longs to go there
To meet my kith and kin.

I see in the deadly nightshade
The waxen face of death,
As Dad lay in his coffin
With formalin on his breath.

I climbed upon a foot-stool
And kissed his pallid face.
“Good-bye Dad … God Bless you”
Then scramble off in haste.

The pansies and petunias
Are school girls that I`ve known,
Some soft and warm like velvet.
And some as hard as stone.

The Eva`s and Suzanna`s,
In party dresses bright,
I held them close unto my heart
And danced away the night.

I clutched at straws bewildered,
At a hundred garden gates,
A kiss, a sigh, a quick goodbye
Then went back to my mates.

Those gaudy red geraniums
Like Aunts with mothballed scent
And sparkling yellow sunflowers,
Like Uncles, lawns and tents.

I pick a rose.. a tear appears
And fills my open eye
Oh Joanie… sister, life long friend,
Why did you have to die?

Ah yes, I do have Jasmine
Its fragrance fills the air.
Just like my Mum, her rule of thumb
Was tender loving care.

I see a Scottish thistle
Like a sentinel on guard,
He`ll be my Sergeant Major
Doing foot-drill in the yard.

The khaki bush and chickweed
The tangled weeds between,
All mates that stood close by me
When we served our gracious Queen.

And all these precious memories
I`ve told excepting one,
A lone exquisite orchid
Who`s brilliance blots the sun.

She was my prized possession
My need, my love, my life.
The reason for my living
My ever-loving wife.

Its four years since she left me,
I cry most every day.
But now she sits at Gods right hand
There`s no more I can say….

Geoffrey Kennell©