There is new life <br />In the old garden <br />There are pretty specks of colour <br />Blooming strongly from the ground <br />And the middle-air is weightless <br />Blowing freely through the lane <br />The summer fields fold out <br />Through wooden window-frames <br />Freshly-cut grass glides lazily <br />Down molten tarmac roads <br /> <br />There is new life <br />In the old garden <br />A cigarette, a teddy-bear <br />Starched laundry on the line <br />The meadow beyond the lower fence <br />And birds sleeping on the wires <br />Paint peals and turns to dust <br />On sheds, on gates, and benches <br />White-spirits in jars warming in the sun <br />On the worktop in the garage <br /> <br />There is new life <br />In the old garden <br />Luscious greens and winding blues <br />Yellows so intense they're blinding <br />Stretching out endlessly and golden <br />From this stream, to the horizon <br />Soon old friends will come and smile <br />Brimming with new conversations <br />And bonfires and water fights, and warmth <br />So pretty, so effortlessly divine <br /> <br />There is new life <br />In the old garden <br />A stalking cat, a knowing butterfly <br />The dance of smoke from the fire <br />A glass of wine, a scent of fruit <br />The pouring out of hearts so full <br />The apple tree, the water-hose <br />And running through the weeds <br />These scenes imprinting their memory <br />On every sense, five times remembered!<br /><br />B.. Alexander<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/british-summer-time/
