H>WINTER GARDEN

WINTER GARDEN

A blaze of colour
rolling green lawns
roses and poses
the sprinkling of hoses.

But another love
the old man had

was ol' Jake his faithful hound
around the garden he would bound.

People would stop
and look over the wall
from the spring
to the fall.

and they would get a loving
lick from ol' Jake
they would scratch his ear and say
"hellow mate"

But as the willow starts to weep
and the grass grows up to meet
all those years of loving care
people walk by like your not there.

You look out of the window
as the wilderness grows
your hands twisted and pained
no help just the rain.

And as the ivy closes in
and the winter blossoms
brush the door
old Jake scratches it with
his bleeding paw.