The Garden Door

The garden at home, from what I recall

Was massive and overgrown,

More like a huge untended park

That was mine to explore and roam.

There were trees and shrubs and flowerbeds

That were all burnt up and dried,

I never saw anyone water it 

So most of the garden died.

And my grandfather would wander about

And he’d grumble under his beard,

Mumble about his offspring, as he

Wondered what he’d reared.

‘They all take after their mother’s side,’

He would say, ‘They have no spine,

I’ve searched and searched for an Astrogoth

But I don’t think that they’re mine.’

I doubted they really wanted me,

They’d throw me over the fence,

And say, ‘Go play with your grandfather,

He’s more like you, and dense.’

Then off they’d go to the garden’s end

To sit by the smoking pit,

Whenever I’d ask if I could go

My mother would throw a fit.

‘Don’t go to the end of the garden or

We might just leave you there,

Your cousin fell in the pit of hell

And was burnt beyond compare.’

I watched the smoke pour out of the ground

To see if my parents lied,

But sure as hell, there were flames as well

Right there, where my cousin died.

One day I watched as it opened up

To reveal the son of sin,

My parents ventured a little close

And then they had tumbled in,

He yelled and roared, called on the Lord

That he spared him in his den,

‘Just take your half-wits back,’ he cried,

‘My hell is not for them!’

I haven’t been to the garden now

For years, since my Gramps took off,

So I’m the only descendant now

With the name of Astrogoth,

That smoking pit with a door to it

I have tried for years to sell,

But nobody seems to want to buy

A personal door to hell.

David Lewis Paget

Reviews

[ANTO]

Hehe 'For Sale - One way to Hell - One careless owner" ~ I feel there's more to this than meets the eye though Mr Paget

I laughed at the image of old Nick refusing to take them - I felt for the poor boy whose parents were rejects from Hell.
Sometimes their own front door is the door to Hell for many people, having to face the outside world and it's myriad daemons.

[emmajoy]

As ever a fine tale, written with great verve and meter. You brought a new touch to hellish parents and smoking.. so that must make this unique! Your imagination travels in so many directions, and , like this, has a great destination, ie.. finish - creepy, clever. .