Love In A Garden

Sometimes, by mistake or mishap,

we leave love in a corner of the garden;

under a bench, almost hidden amid grimy flower pots

brimming with black-skinned rainwater.

Love left where the revitalising sun cannot reach.

Love is not happy consigned to such shadows.

Troubled, it claws the gravel. Uneasy, it scrapes the soil.

And whether guilty or blameless –

you have to get down on your knees to retrieve it.

John Rice

Please note that the poems are copyright John Rice 2014 and cannot be reproduced without the express permission of the author.

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