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"The Accidental Garden" by James Scruton

Late April turning cold,
we saw blankets over flower beds,
front0yard shrubs and bushes shrouded

like furniture in unused rooms,
like church satues during Holy Week --
a solicitude for leaf and stem

that always takes us by surprise,
since anything that grows for us
is wild or thrives by luck, our prized

but accidental garden full
of unruly roses, unlooked-for lilies.
Our blow-ins have become perennials

re-christened every spring: Windbloom,
Randomflower, Golden Come-What-May,
Weather's Will, Common Chance-Blossom.

Comments

Clint said…
Hi,

Like your poem collection.

I have "borrowed" the poem Accidental Garden for my blog of the same name.

Thanks

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