STICKS AND STONES

We sowed a bed

Of purple heather
In overcast
Acrylic weather,
It prospers still.
And calls the fumbling
Bumble bees
Who sip the nectar
On their knees
And sac-fuls fill.
 
We planted oaks
A seedling pair
From forest bed
The lawn was bare
Before they grew.
Mine is giddy
Hers is shy
Six feet apart
Under a sky
Of lapis blue.
 
We made a shed
Of sticks and stones
And filled it with
The withered bones
Of old beech sap.
And sods of turf
From Ring Dong bog
A spade and fork
And bed for dog
We call him Jap.
 
There is no shadow
Without light
Where be the day
Without the night?
A twilight den.
We spend some time
Long leagues apart
Yet still return
To the start
And smile again.