The Garden

 I left the street,
And walked between
The wild grass beds their
Yellow flowers and white
Sheltered from the rain.
My trousers wet again
Flowers cannot speak,
That much learned at school,
(That was the day I listened...
Botany not my favourite subject,
Later to be my work.
Knowledge never wasted.
I suppose.)
But someone said "Hello".
I searched the tallest tree...
A red-wood, ninety feet.
"Not me"it said "Not me"
A rose,shook its head,
But that was only wind.
I took another turn
Passed  the little grave
Hid beneath a rose we bred,
Raised the seed ourselves;
Few know it’s here
There is no need ........
A November toast each year
Is quite enough.
I am not sad, it was good fun
And as they say "that's life".
One more round
Along the grassy paths
“Was it you?”
I asked them all in turn
A smile or two was all I got
Until I met the Lavender,
then I knew............
Soft blue fragrance on the breeze,
Calmed..............
I went inside.