Follow the laughter of this babbling brook,

As we step from our busy road of life.

Upon carefully laid stones,

Wreathed by soft thyme and lavender.

Wipe the dullness from your tired eyes,

And bask in the cool green air about us.

You are now in the Grandfather Garden,

Where peace dwells among the lilac hedges.

Walk between old stone sculptures,

And listen to a chorus of bird song.

As the smell of sun warmed wood,

And spiced pears hang between draped bows.

In this place you will find rest,

Well cultivated along a neat hedgerow of blackberries.

Fill your cup with warm grapes and soft dreams

As you watch crystal clear water run between budding pumpkin vines.

All else will melt into a background of bruised lemon verbena,

And pine resin as you wait for evening to come.

Between these hedges and humble abode,

The spirit of summer treads.

And if you lower your eyes just so,

You may catch a glimpse of her fresh laden robe.

Oh stay in this Grandfather Garden,

While the outside world toils away.

And the day grows long on into the night,

Here we will spy on pixies as they dance in the eventide.

Long will each shadow of the apple trees spread,

Reaching for cool grass and a waiting nap.

Step away from this busy life and come roam with me,

In this Grandfather Garden.

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Michael is a husband, father, writer, poet, and aspiring author. He finds time to scribble down his thoughts in the dead of night, between ghosts and night owls. If you’d like to read more of his poetry follow the link here. Or to visit his full blog, ‘The Ink Owl’ click here.