Garden. Sweet perfume has been hanging in the air for days but I only realized what it was last night; flowers growing in the tall beech hedge (which is in desperate need of a hair cut). It seems that a fanfare of honeysuckle has been reaching up through the hedge and has finally burst out at the top…..into gentle,peach pink trumpet blossoms with heraldic scrolls, lush tendrils. How could I have missed it? Today, after a night of thunder and lightening and rain bursts, the perfume is louder and ever more intoxicating. The hair cut will have to wait……Diary Gill McGrath. July 19
In its past this aching lovely tree
Was pruned with heavy hands
And left with its weeping wounds to heal alone
Growing useful, monstrous, silent scars, accepted
As a kind of beauty on its own!
But, if you look close……
You’ll see just one scar still crying
Open there among the rest.
The lady sits there still in waiting, ready
To be shaped in new shades of beauty
By a gentle Sculptor’s pair of hands!
(About a local tree. Part. Gnarled by pollarding) press the thumbnail for detail