The Garden

I walked the garden path
where wildflowers grow
and cattails turned to fluff
stand like old soldiers
guarding the way

I walked with youth by my side
and almost couldn't keep up

I passed a fountain standing tall
shrouded by the trees
testimony to the passage of time,
its mouths long empty,
its pool long dry

I paused in awe of the craftsman
who laid stone on stone in beauty's name

I wove my way through flowers,
passing plots of nature in full colour,
shared time with the butterflies
and passed the wise old willow
as he bowed to me

I remembered a little girl
with bluebells on her fingers

I met with the Lady of the Garden
as she sprinkled life's rain among the blooms
and she talked to me of times gone by,
of roses, milkweed, and old men,
and beauty all around

And I left a little wiser
for the peace that touched my soul 



june 2007
Janet Reid




top photo by me, bottom photo by Rebecca