Ruined house, neglected garden midsummer

I wade more than walk

through the long grass

here and there,

brambles of all heights

tug at my clothing

some trying to make good

their sinously thorny escape

over the crumbling surrounding stone wall

 

the air above the small brothy, limpid green pool

little hordes of insects and the like hovering

 

dawdling and taking too much notice

of a beautiful butterfly flitting about on

and glorifying the unsightly verdurousness

causes me to catch my knee

on a rotting garden bench obscured by waist high overgrowth

 

I pull the grasses aside

and there on an oval brass plate

left hanging by a single screw on the splintery backrest

the etched words

 

       ROSE AND TOM

(  their little piece of heaven )

           now together

               forever