My window view Downunder is the opposite of yours, Writer's Cramp, on April 9, 2021.
|Was I sleepwalking?
Actually carefully stepping the charming stone path
leading to a giant hedge?
And the almost hidden door —
was it not a mirror image of the famous,
Secret Garden door of yore?
I was definitely in my PJs, nightily attired with slippers, too.
The door creaked eerily,
maybe only growling its disuse, and the lack of curiosity
by so many, for so long.
Thankfully, the secret passageway was short.
Gratefully, I slipped through, claustrophobia in tight check,
to emerge... into glorious sunshine,
endless blue canopy stretched smooth overhead
above myriad leaves' grey shadows dappling the glory of flowers beneath.
They didn't speak to me, those bountiful blooms.
They sang a refrain like no other.
Aloe sounds like 'a welcome', with a most affectionate hug,
While Basil and Bay-leaf chant most 'glorious good wishes',
The Camellia trio combine their messages into one glorious offering —
White, 'you're adorable'; Pink, 'longing for you'; Red, 'you're a flame in my heart'…
Such a love-song from those frilly throats,
as a Chrysanthemum (deepest magenta, of course) chimes in loudly, 'I Love You'.
Down on the ground, a chorus of tiny white Clover flowers harmonise, 'Think of me, think of me';
The love of Daffodils echoes in 'unequalled' tones
While the Honeysuckle yodels of 'bonding' hearts with hers.
SO much love abounds in these hallowed grounds.
Definitely it is in my dreamworld, this precious escape from earthside,
because it's late autumn here Downunder.
Great swollen clouds of steely grey promise the end of summer
But in dreams? A beauteous and aromatic choral experience awaits.
My trance ticket is booked for tomorrow night…
maybe the rest of the week… month? Season?
Until colour returns to my world...
and the view from my window.