top of page

Dancing in the breeze and mid-day sun,
To a silent verse without a tongue.
A chorus of Dahlias form a floral parade,
An undulating vibrant cascade.
Orange and reds, through to pinks and creams,
A vivid synaesthesia symphony daydream.
They lift their heads in a colourful array,
Dazzling the autumn clouds away.
While in me a soft note begins to thrum,
Keeping time, a clear rhythmic drum.
Filling the recesses of my mind,
With a joy and a peace, I’ve longed to find.
It sings of hope, it sings of grace,
A comforting, familiar place.
The very music that the garden sings,
Vibrating within me, through my heart and it’s strings.
















bottom of page
