Sunday Sun

 The thyme is buzzing by the drive
purple low, savoury  leaves
soaking up the sun,
hover flies compete
defending evening supper.
slow in the gravel edging
shaded in the morning
by Euphorbia's poison flowers,
Ten years at least; many more I hope.
Of lighter hue the rosemary
sometimes shares a meal,or crumpled in my pocket
with lavender and southern-wood
as in child-hood days,
fragrance lingering on the hand.
An old clay pot entraps the mint
beside the curry plant sweating in the heat;
forgot to plant the garlic cloves last winter
now mild Welsh onion grows untidy clumps,
oregano in a chimney pot, marjoram in English
supervised by dark green bay.........
Elizabethan garden below the double glazing,
dozing in the Sunday sun