Saturday, April 07, 2007

Through the cedar

I came to the bridge
You probably know it
Where the stream runs underneath
And tumbles down the rocks

I stood and looked down
At the manicured gardens
Filling the bowl
That used to be a quarry

But the bright colours
And the light voices
And the heavy scent
Of hyacinth rose

So I descended by the back way
Through the cedar
And found the light green blooms
Of hellebore in the shade