I stand here in this garden
Pondering my doom
I smell the roses all in bloom
The ashes of a bonfire next door
Drifts into the air to add to the gloom
The very ashes with last year’s roses
Put the life back into the garden
Like a never ending circle of life
As we ourselves will one day become
The carving on the apple tree
Of your name
You wrote it sitting on my knee
Now you give colour to the leaves
And taste to the fruit
The gardener with his broken barrow
Whose mind is so narrow
The robin on the garden gate
Singing his merry song
Soon even I will sing a long
Always there to here his song

No reproduction without permission Copyright Poemmaker 2008