I have garden guilt.
Though she had always wanted her own garden.
She never really seemed to have the time
To give it the attention that it needed.
She’d stare out of the window with a growing
Sense of guilt, watching the buttercups and brambles
Slowly encroach and choke the once neat lawn.
She’d dreamed of having picnics on that lawn,
Of showing visitors her lovely garden
But she is so ashamed of all the brambles
Which have completely choked the lemon thyme
She planted years ago, thought it was growing.
But didn’t do the weeding that was needed.
But now she always feels like she is needed
Somewhere else. She hasn’t time to mow the lawn.
But now she gets the sense that something’s growing
Something she never planted in the garden.
She’s sure it’s getting bigger all the time
Insidious and hidden by the brambles.
She promises herself she’ll cut the brambles
Down and even put down weedkiller where needed
But then, she never seems to have the time.
It would be so hard to restore the lawn.
And still she knows there’s something in the garden
Malevolent and poisonous and growing.
And she does not know how to stop it growing
This thing is more tenacious than the brambles.
It’s reaching out towards her from the garden.
The very soil looks injured: bruised and kneaded.
The grass is poor and yellow where the lawn
Once was. This weed needs only time.
And she has given it a lot of time.
It’s out there: pale and fleshy. Lithe and growing,
It’s sprawling, covering most of the lawn,
It’s even starting to drive out the brambles
She feels some drastic action will be needed
To save herself from what is in the garden
She’d love a lawn of chamomile and thyme
But in her garden, something bad is growing
Among the brambles, intervention’s needed.
Tom Juniper Poetry 