My Writing

IN THIS GARDEN ©

By Annette Higby

“Come, sit with me awhile, here in this garden I once planted. I would so love to have the company. It gets lonely, sitting here by myself, waiting for someone to come who can see and hear me.” She smiled sadly, patting the bench next to her, inviting me to sit, and so I did.

The sun glinted off her dark auburn hair, loose tendrils blowing gently in the ocean breeze. She wore a frilly yellow dress with a white lacy petticoat, looking so pretty, like she was indeed waiting for someone. Her green eyes gazed longingly into a far off distance that only she could see.

This garden, as she saw it, was filled with a riot of color. Geraniums, bougainvillea and the fragrant jasmine were all in bloom. The pepper trees were growing tall, beginning to lend their shade to the garden. And oh, how she loved the wisteria! She knew one day it was going to grow into a huge canopy of shade and purple flowers. For now, freshly planted, it had just burst forth in a few small blossoms on the spindly and fragile stem.

This garden, as I saw it, was an expanse of green grass with several very old pepper trees creating a great deal of shade. The wisteria was in full bloom and my eyes followed the huge and ancient stalk up to the masses of purple flowers, a profusion of them, spreading and reaching out to cover half the garden.

“Will you stay awhile?” she asked wistfully. “I’d like to tell you a story, my story, a story of love”.

“This is the garden I once planted, a time of spring, a time so full.

This is the garden I once planted, when love was fresh, when stars were born.

This is the garden I once planted, when the world spun beneath my feet.

This is the garden I once planted, a place where love, it swelled within me.”

“So full of life, so full of joy, this is a garden where sorrow grew.”

“This is my garden that I once planted, a promise of never more, where promises were made and are no more.”

“This is the garden I once planted.”