Clematis

Six-foot fence with trellised side,

The English garden’s secrets hide,

The timber slats take brunt of wind,

The knots fall out the eyes peek in.

A thought, a seed, a moment spared,

A springtime hope a freedom dared,

Then scrawny, wiry, twisted stems,

Grapple with the timber hems.

Reaching, curling, wriggling free,

A leafy mass the skies can see,

A shower above; a force beneath,

The fence redundant now retreats.

Now dawn horizon greets the day,

Clematis flowers in full array,

Boundary wooden line now hides,

This floral fence shall take no sides.

©Philip Holden

2003

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