(8 November 1968 / Dublin Ireland)

The Garden Of The Wild Wild Rose

there is a verdant, green and sunlit glade
o'erhung by ivy, kissed by violets
where Bella Donna sweeps a bow
to passing Star of David
Where sweet Wild Garlic fills the air at dusk
and Heart's Ease shyly compliments the setting sun

how many hearts have tried to find their way
to the Garden of the Wild Wild Rose?

And at its heart a green-blue pool
home to lily-life and croaking frog
glinting like a bride's diamond in the gentle light
while white bindweed strokes the side
of rush-filled shallows
a surface still and smooth
mirrors back the cloudless sky

a perfect minute of eternal silence
in the Garden of the Wild Wild Rose

The ravens in their lofty tops
the robin her shady bower both hear the whisper
light as air, the tiny breath that stirs the grass
the beating of a mayfly's wing
the storming of a butterfly
the gossamer touch of fairies

the movement of a tiny soul
coming home to the Garden of the Wild Wild Rose

one petal of the silver rose
floats like a child's dream towards the pool
settling on the clear waters like a chaste kiss
so soft it barely moved the air
yet like the leap of Salmon from its wake
a thousand ripples spread across a lake.

The value of all living things is seen
in the Garden of the Wild Wild Rose.

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