My office a garden

This is a Monday morning
My office a garden
My work
To care about the words I choose

To remember the dust laden
Smokestack chimneys
And frozen days
In the chosen clay pit quarries

To remember rising at five
On the road before daybreak
And bringing back
So little food for the soul

Here in the garden
I can smell the fresh cut grass
Listen to the birds and the flies
Hear the glide, the buzz and the zoom

My horizon
Is a blue sky
Above and beyond
The seven red brick chimneys

On this terrace row
There is only one roof-light
Only one room at night
For children to see the stars

Then thanks
Let us say thanks
For our imaginations
For to imagine a garden

A rosebud
A flower
Our own piece
Of loves memory at work


A Poem from He waits for the Season - Her reason is clear available for Kindle from Amazon