My Queens Garden

I've only spent one warm day here,
but the coldest afternoons can feel thawed when I remember.
I sit, staring at the murky inconsistency that ducks forsook,
I speak, I say words that seemed meaninful before deserting the safety of my lips.

Now they seem hollow.

y'see My speech can't fulfill the direction of my emotion,
my thoughts and notions falling broken between the jagged teeth and bones, and now I've spoken.

The words are there forever.

This place feels like it could be too.
It's getting late in the afternoon and I know you'll have to get the bus home soon.

but I'm not ready to leave.

I hate cliches beyond most things,
but sat here, my arse damp from the rain on this bench,
satisfying my quenching thirst with sideways snatches of your face in profile
I can't help my repeating brain numbing my senses with disney quotes. So I'll just check my mobile.
There's no notifications to distract my brain from the refracting rainstorm that bashes, batters my brain from angles of pain for a matter of days


It's a beautiful place.
And I don't mean it has rolling views,
sweeping hills,
a bleeding sunset crying between mountain peaks.

I mean it speaks,
It's life, it's energy beyond the leaves the trees or streets conceit,
It's free,
It's here we'd meet,
and for me - that makes it more beautiful than poetry.

so let it be.

If theres one thing I'll vulture from this city of culture it's My queens garden.

Because she's more than beautiful than anything.

I love the weeping willows, they sit hunched at their desk writing words for nobody but themselves.
I stand, swaying my extremities in the wind, rooted to the ground,
the branching boughs of my willows arms

There's a statue in the middle, of what - I was told but can't remember. It's better that way.
In my mind it probably holds more mystery
than if it's secrets were part of my uncommon knowledge.

The solemn college stands ahead. I stare up from my bench to the highest ledge. There's a door and a railing there.

Perfect for summer bathing basking in bursts of the sun,

You told me that never happens,but in my mind it does. I'll never be on that ledge dashing sunspots from my eyes.

But I like the idea that someone will when summer comes.

On the first of the month I quenched my thirst for your love.

The ducks are nowhere to be seen,
but that's part of it don't you see.

It's history, they were there once!

And even though I never see them they're still there to me.

I lay on the grass in the last of the sun that afternoon and I melted like discarded icecream,

I lay with you.

You see the queens garden isn't just a place to me.

It's the start of the rest of my life.

It has to be.
Written by PCP
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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