When I was a child, the garden burst with marigolds.

Pungent tomatoes climbed the walls in the dusty sun

And new-cut grass with daisies lying slaughtered

And ponds with drowning fan-tails and proud peonies

Spoke of a love that showed itself in growing

Days in the sun that I knew before I was knowing.

When you were older you tended the wild Valerian

And the African daisies that spilled across the lawn and path

And birthday Irises, July’s gift to Julia

Baby’s-breath that misted the pots you made for her

Slower you were, but still the seeds were sowing

Gifts of your heart to a love who would soon be going.

Now on the unmarked place where the earth has claimed her

Drowsing beneath the beds of rose and freesia

Warmed by the blanket of blooms with which you cover her

Stone would be far too cold for your blue-eyed Julia.

Seasons marked by the buds unfurling and showing

Love of your life, in the garden you are still growing.