Monthly Archives: June 2025

The donkeys are growing flowers on their farm, treading quietly with flinted hooves, driving seed to earth and in their footsteps will root Catchfly, Fumitory, Stinking Chamomile, Prickly Poppy. Then will creep vole and field mouse, air will be deep … Continue reading →

The plot at the end of the lane rests in a patch of everlasting summer, fat lawn spread like a counterpane, apples sun-steeped, berries rainbow-ripe. Borage and thymes sprawl lazy with bees, peonies linger in whispers. Plum, pear, cherry blossom … Continue reading →

Single worm, now multiplying daily in a dense green plastic dome of kitchen waste beneath the plum tree. Devouring vegetation, feeding on the sweat of leaves, ingesting their fibre, offloading rich humus, and transforming carbon. Avarice is their secret, these … Continue reading →

Defying its heaviness, the circle face defaults to a water lily in her withering hand, and a sudden memory of her father’s garden pond trickles forward from childhood. Through this case of metal and rust, she’s floating back to the … Continue reading →

His grass is always greener It’s like he paints it. He surely has a draughtsman to draw those lines on his lawn. He must be out there early mornings with his tape measure and spirit level. His flowers colour co-ordinated, … Continue reading →

The loveliness of lilies, the magnificence of marigolds, the delight of dahlias in my garden shrine. Forgive me for waxing lyrical, but each year I fall in love with the annual renewal of Nature’s bounty. My heart sings with joy … Continue reading →

Strolling in the garden at midnight under the pale ghost light of the moon, a light breeze fanning me, I feel a connection with the sheer abundance of flowers and shrubbery, the smell of growth around me. Although I cannot … Continue reading →

Nasturtiums grow below the hedge And bloom in June, orange and red Then by July, beneath the leaf Are eggs – bursting and hatching Caterpillars, flower killers, keen to tuck in Wreaking disorder all over the border Nasturtiums wilt, the … Continue reading →

The clematis and roses, still in bud, almost fill the arches now. Beds edged with nasturtium, yet to break from their neat rows, to blur the wide path’s tidy margins. Not in that explosive, jewelled way of the original, but … Continue reading →

Among the pea sticks and neat rows of veg A nun stoops low to tend the shooting plants. A girl looks on, unseen beyond the edge Of this bucolic scene, caught in the slant Of late spring sunlight glancing through … Continue reading →