Ferny Garden In The Hills Poem by james watkin
Ferny Garden In The Hills
The native tongue of this place
Where man, with bird, of its peace
Does, evening-bent, sip
Clarity's soft, even toned
Fern-dangled drip-drip.
As prompt, that chill, referenced
Its entry, mock gothic-arched
And mossy, pushed in
All of its heat, modern life's
Made numb to. Flushed in.
Sunday, December 11, 2022
Topic(s) of this poem: hill,garden,rain drops
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7/27/2025 5:32:33 PM # 1.0.0
