This week’s poems are by Georgina Orford and Gillian Fisher.
My secret garden takes me away from the worries and stress of the day. It’s so peaceful and quiet nothing else can compare with the beauty and colour that waits for me there. The cool breeze that blows on delicate heads and gently disperse the perfume they shed.
Birds sing melodies to lighten my heart and a spider’s must be the best work of art. There are so many things in my garden for me to appreciate them you must come and see. I don’t need loud music, or parties with wine for my secret garden is simply divine
by Georgina Orford
THE NID-OCTOBER AIR
is thickening with falling leaves, that wind is snatching, earth is catching. This is our time to perceive paling woodland daylight matching its wan hue with yellow splashes on oak trees. Squirrels are scratching through leaf-mat for acorn-caches, under heaps of trees’ spoiled clothes lie keys of the newest ashes. Next Spring they’ll be undergrowth. Autumn’s vivid coloured preludes we prefer; while tending to loathe the sulky, drab way it concludes.
by Gillian Fisher
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