I drank in the delicacies <br />of the Italian meadows <br />raised against green-swathed dolomite hillsides - <br />lingered on curvaceous, sweeping roadways <br />sipped on sweet nectar <br />at Vignamaggio <br />where Leonardo painted Mona Lisa in her prime <br /> <br />and on my return to Stonehaven <br />a shock of frenzied green caught my glance <br />ferried me into a semblance of dis-order, <br />harried and fettered, the crisp-dry tulip fronds <br />sat trapped between this gross jungle of weeds - <br />potato plants, a thicket of chickweed - groundswell - <br />Hell! <br /> <br />so, calling (in hope) the Sun God to keep off the rain <br />the garden is once more <br />almost <br />whole again... <br /> <br />25 June 2008<br /><br />Penny Hemans<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/garden-on-my-return/
