The Garden

Freshly mowed grass, silently sways,

Whilst black birds and bluebirds run around on the ground

And fly high in the sky,

Calling and tweeting for each other,

Like people communicating across the streets

Rose bushes and lilac coloured flowers,

Are everywhere.

Their sweet scents attract anthophilas, so,

Bees swarm around them, collecting pollen

And buzzing around the area

Beside me is a grape vine,

Prickly green leaves, with flowers yet to blossom

As the grapes are still hidden away

And the plant gets taller, whilst it spreads along the brick wall

The breeze gently blows among the flowers,

Then their leaves begin to rustle in the wind

As a plane flies over in the cloudy, blue sky,

Like a boat slowly drifting across a soundless lake

The glittering sun is blinding

As it repeatedly dulls itself and comes back,

As if it is a flickering candle

The light is like a ghost

So calm and silent,

Only birds can be heard,

As they fly from tree to tree

And the clouds keep moving anti-clockwise,

But in fact, we’re just moving clockwise.

By Liya Binoy