Secret Garden 3
Good times, bad times, sun and rain:
only the robin knows what passes
through my mind at times like these.
Head on one side, looking at fresh-
turned earth for wriggling worms to take
to his new nest under the leaves, he’s not
telling anyone anything. So why should I?
“Once I had a secret love,” but secrets
aren’t secrets when the heart is worn
on the sleeve or a shining ring adorns
the loved one’s finger. I remember
the warmth flooding through heart
and mind as I prepared for our secret
meetings. The Silver Gift Shop in Bath:
many’s the afternoon I waited there
while you finished your shift in Boot’s.
Then off to the Monk’s Retreat for sausage,
egg, and chips served in the frying pan
at the table: “Careful, my dears, it’s very hot.”
The Robin nods his head and winks a knowing eye.
There are voices in the garden. We lie
close to the ground hoping we won’t be seen.
Your state of undress is something
you’d want to hide from your mother,
even now, after a quarter of a century.
Would you encourage your daughter to make love
out of wedlock? We did. There: the secret’s out.
At least, I thought it was a secret,
but now, as I sit in the classroom
watching pair lovers, side by side,
I read so many signs I once thought
unreadable: sudden warmth in a smile,
a blush, eyes locking then looking
quickly away, a change in a person’s
breathing, hands touching lightly,
loves messages flashed swiftly
from eye to eye, along the secret pathway
that unites and ignites two souls.
rogermoorepoet 
Impressive writing Roger, with honest disclosure and apposite choice of word and phrase.
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Thank you so much. One of my Lady Clare’s favorite books is the Secret Garden, hence the title. The robin is a cross between that book and T. S. Eliot (with other echoes from the Four Quartets).
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I am shocked Roger! You write beautiful love poetry, I envy you, something I find incredibly hard to do, for some reason.
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With my long-term attachments to the beautiful Lady Clare, such love-poetry is a by-product that reflects our relationship. So glad you like it and thank you so much for the wonderful compliment.
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You will have to share your secret
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There is no secret really. Two lonely people together and a series of shared moments that have built a network of wonderful memories.
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That’s lovely Roger
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Awesome write here. I am now back to quench my thirst for poetry.
Thanks.
Here is my new post after months of running away from my passion
https://pennymatters.wordpress.com/2016/12/13/ten-things-you-need-to-know-before-you-start-a-blog-in-2017/
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Awesome write here. I am now back to quench my thirst for poetry.
Thanks.
Here is my new post after months of running away from my
passionhttps://pennymatters.wordpress.com/2016/12/13/ten-things-you-need-to-know-before-you-start-a-blog-in-2017/
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Welcome back and good to see you again. Best wishes,
Roger.
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I agree with Meg, Roger, this is just lovely…with just the right touch seasoning…
Stay warm!⛄
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Thanks, Tanya. I am wondering what other goodies are lying there, hidden away. I’ve just discovered a whole book of boarding school stories and snippets. That may go up sometime soon. So glad you are enjoying these Golden Oldies.
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I’m loving them…
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Many more to come … and then … just before Christmas … the secret will be revealed … to all who haven’t already worked it out.
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Oh that’s lovely! Sweetly romantic, Roger! But oh, am I scandalized? I think not!
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Fifty years (or more) ago, it was a very different matter. One never mentioned the unmentionables and kept them unmentionable. As Molière used to say “If it wasn’t for some of the unmentionable habits of our parents, none of us would ever be here.” I think it’s from Les Femmes Savantes (or Les Précieuses Ridicules), but I’ve forgotten the quote in French. I’m too lazy and too comfortable to look it up!
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Ah that is true. You were quite the progressive, but artists usually are! You are allowed to be lazy and comfortable on a cold winter’s day!
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Snowing here. They have forecast 15 cms (six inches) but it’s a light, fine snow, not that heavy, wet muck-shee that fell last time and took down trees and wires. At -11C it’s quite cold. Not much wind though. A nice day for a fire and a read at the existentialist café.
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That sounds perfect! It’s hovering above freezing here… but I still have a fire going. And though it’s a day in my office, I’m not very busy so I’ll have plenty of time to write. I hope!
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