Secret Garden (Poetry)

There is a garden waiting for me
already seeded
its dark earth hums with promise
and the birds already plan
the future’s nests.

The sun and shade have settled
how to share
between the hedges — round the
slanting dew-eyed lawn
summers jostle time.

I dream how many seasons lie
buried there
until I can unlock them — set free
the colours — the scents — do away
with secrecy.

’Til then the place is hid from
prying eyes
invisible behind a conjured wall
the bees know of its legend — sun and moon
count the hours.