The dark red dahlias seem always to be the last flower to give in to the
onset of winter with their big shaggy heads, firm stems and dark strong
leaves, yet often when they have given up, one small daisy appears,
sometimes even with pink tingeing their tiny petals, as if in complete
defiance of the frost.

 YESTERDAY’S DREAMS

This garden is in retreat,
Dark red dahlias heralding the end.
Yesterday’s dreams already lying down
With their heads on the pillow. 

A hard frost killed the pale roses.

But this garden acknowledges no retreat,
Defiantly flowering one final daisy.
Today’s dreams already on their toes,
Waiting to get a move on. 

                        ©2019 Gwen Grant

After weeks of being unwell, I was cheered by the sight of the
rhododendrons full of tight buds, reminding me that, although
it was a long way away, Spring would come, the buds would open
and their glorious flowers would shine out. Warmth
and colour would be in the world again.

HOPE IN TRAINING

Those tight little buds are waiting
For next Spring.

There’s no sign of hurry,
No hint of impatience.

In fact, just looking at them
Reveals an alternative world

To the one we live in.

©2021 Gwen Grant

KEEP AWAY FROM THE WATER

There is no scent of roses here
As there was in that quiet Cathedral.
No flowers at all.
Only the drunks hiccuping home, singing,
Keeping well away from the grey and hungry water
Hissing right up to the sea wall,
All frosted and glittering.

Bitter sleet whipping their cold faces,
Whitening their hair,
Whitening the streets around them,
As if spitefully denying any hope
Of warmth and peace to come.

For these men and women staggering
Down the frozen pavements,
Are reluctant to go home.
Reluctant to leave the world behind them.
Boozily loving each other,
Wanting to sing as loud as they can.

Singing without thinking,
Knowing the words of songs learnt in childhood,
Knowing that drunk or sober,
Life is for the living.

Just keep away from the water.

©2021 Gwen Grant

                TULIPS

These Tulips are a dazzle
Of tethered sunshine,
Silky lemon petals trembling
In the slow moving air.

Courteous flowers,
Bowing to each other,
Bending low to the waiting room
Their stems gently curving,
Lifting the green and lovely leaves
That we might see
The fabulous hidden life
Waiting for us all.

                                       © 2019 Gwen Grant

ON TOP OF THE HILLS

The hills are old and cold
And green.

We have left the world behind.

There is nothing up here
But sky.

We’re so high,
With one quick jump,
We could land on the sickle moon.

And rock ourselves
To sleep.

                               ©2011 Gwen Grant

PRIVATE KEEP OUT!  by Gwen Grant
published by Penguin Vintage  Children’s Classics
available in paperback and as ebook