Secret Garden

Years ago, my husband installed a mirror in our hedge. I still catch myself wondering about the garden on the other side.

 

hedgemirrorsmThere is an arch in the hedge,

Dark and green,

And a gate.

It beckons.

Calls me to step through

To the secret garden

Beyond.

 

At work over here,

I glance up.

The far side is green,

Lush,

With clipped shrubs

And well-weeded flowers.

 

I wonder at the gardener

Who can maintain such beauty.

I struggle so on this side!

 

A bird flashes by,

Glimpsed through the arch,

I am sure it was red,

With a long tail.

What exotic creatures live over there

On the other side?

 

I stand, stretching my aching back.

I step closer to the arch.

Was there movement?

There is someone on the other side.

The gardener?

I would like to meet her.

Would she show me around her garden?

Boldly I approach the gap.

I see she, too, walks to greet me.

When I catch her eye,

I draw up short.

A slow smile spreads across our faces

As we recognise one another.

 

 

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