Capturing Garden Memories
Mum's secret dreamy flowers settle gently on my mind,
her cooled murmur of breath hidden, yet garnished with
droplets from spring showers that cling like peaceful
sprinkles of wisdom, such sweeping visions expressed
like reflections of ageless allure; but then flurried
blossom petals swiftly airborne plunge to floor.
I hear soft muted voices, chatter from some radio,
it creeps up on untamed current of air; reaching my
bedroom window, neighbour though elderly she
maybe, cast a distant spell...a memory, sits at
garden table potting plants on such a windy day,
I think! How brave; as she glances up and waves to me.
This scene captures late mum with her love of blooms
in summer, I'm wrapped up in thoughts of when she was
never happier, than making up overflowing hanging baskets,
carrying impressions of house martins building muddy nests,
amusing how fusion of symbolic significance can spark waves
of recognition, inviting me back to those long ago garden memories.