The garden is my new city
I don’t just mean because it is the centre of all things
I mean
the tower blocks of blossom
the bees in the chimney
the skyscraper of activity
I mean
the birds commuting to and fro
oak to elder
plum to cherry blossom
I mean
the neon bursts of Spring
and the muddy paths lining the fields beyond
speckled with uneaten worms
I mean
the pollution of a Westerly breeze and birdsong
the morning frost
a smog of untouched dew
I mean
the sunshine filters through the stock sturdy trees
built to quake but never fall
without settling new roots
and I feel like I am living as much life I can be living
I mean
the garden
my garden
is the real eternal city.
Poem: © Kristiana Reed 2020
So beautiful My friend. What a lovely piece of vivid writing. We are so blessed with what we have. Love to you and blessings. Joni
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Thank you Joni! ❤
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My pleasure my friend. love Joni
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You are so welcome. Thanks for sharing your beautiful words. Love 💕 you Joni.
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gorgeous!
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Thank you ☺️
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Oh I love this wonderful piece! Quite lovely indeed.
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Thank you so much Tara 💛
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Gorgeous photos. Let me know when they allow people to move into this city. Thanks again for the poem.
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Thank you ☺️
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