The Firebowl

My garden awakens;
buds and blossoms are peeking
the tender air hums with hungry bees
that grapple with fragile rims of 
white comfrey bells.

As evening closes in
I make a space for friendship
with blankets, fire and benches
by the pond, so peaceful on the surface
writhing and pinging with
aquatic life below.

We have waited a too long
for moments like this.
We are offered the gift of
an early summer night in March.

We grab it eagerly.

—-

This morning my garden is different –
altered by the resonance of our 
voices and hearts

some of your words, whatever they were
are nestled in the fence slats
treasured by ivy, which grows thicker
to keep them warm

It’s people that make a house a home
and friends fill a garden with joy

I wish away the cold spring days 
and long for softer nights
by firelight with you
dear friends,

by firelight with you. 

Posted by

Artist, poet, druid, Faversham-dweller.

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