The cottage

Left to her own device

mother nature had risen triumphant,

the riot of colour, mis-matched,

mis-aligned, doubtless a red-flagged

affront to the long gone hand of

the previous too careful owner.

To me, unnerved by the ways of 

such assiduous cultivation, there 

was beauty in such disorder; 

and the vying of the natural 

order of things with the defeated 

remnants of imposition gave rise to 

journey's end, so I wrote the cheque.

They say that nothing stays the same,

but they do not know the little cottage.

The riot of colour remains, only a small

stone pathway daring to intrude,

used by the postman and the odd stray

who occasionally passes this way.

Always, they remark on how lovely the

garden is, marvel at the hours of work gone

into such a creation, regretful they have so

much to do in their busy, modern world

and that there are not enough hours left

in the day to achieve such perfection. 

I should explain of course, it

would be no hardship; but for now

and for all the right reasons

I simply smile and nod my head. 

One day, they might understand and 

lay those same flowers at my graveside;

hopefully, in mild disarray, to let me know

that some things do indeed remain the same. 

Reviews

[Beccy]

Thanks Daffy. It is about my home. The garden is quite small and lends itself to letting it do pretty much as it chooses. In my mind 'they' are the folk who assiduously cultivate, even to the extent of picking the heads of daises that have escaped their lawn's weekly haircut.

I know one or two like it.

Beccy.

[Daffy]

Lovely read this and very thought provoking. You are a very busy single parent, methinks.....correct me if I am wrong. Such a busy bee would not be able to tend a cottage garden as much as 'they' would like....however, as much as 'we' would like is what counts, and to let nature have its way, produces so much better results. Take an English wild flower meadow in the 1950's. Full of all kinds of flowers, bees, butterflies and such. 'They' would ask me to put down weed killer. A weed is only an unwanted plant. All plants are wanted really, so there are no weeds. I am a rambling Rose, methinks, but....as an aside, I have often wondered who 'they' are. Daffy

[Marie]

I can just see this riotously coloured garden with its little path...more so because I have no garden of my own,,,

[JC]

I think you and many of us are on the same wave length when it comes to what it really means to live and what is really important.

[Woody]

a delightful read, Beccy. I love the way you write. the way you paint, rather.
fascinating!

[B.J]

Such a lovely beauty created in a beautiful setting. peaceful writing well penned

[NoelHC]

I could picture that garden you describe, overgrown, a riot of color, as plants take over ground they originally had not been intended for them to occupy.
Sounds an idyllic setting to rest and write.

[Pryde Foltz]

They say that nothing stays the same,
but they do not know the little cottage.
The riot of colour remains, only a small
stone pathway daring to intrude,
used by the postman and the odd stray
who occasionally passes this way.

You do have a beautiful way with the pen … expressive and powerful for what you show and not say.

I was wondering if you might take a look at something I've written … in honour of nature and disarray.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v4NqmOvVZXQ

[jacob erin-cilberto]

disarray can be beautiful in its own way....there is a naturalness to it...a realness.

[R Smith]

a delightful poem Beccy, sounds like a peaceful part of heaven to me, i'd live there, your writing is a treat thank you :)