Sculptures In Eden

A few weeks ago I visited a friend who lives in a lovely house set in a beautiful garden. On stepping out of my car I was immediately aware of birdsong which seemed to fill the air.

Whilst we sat and chatted over a coffee, I couldn’t stop admiring the garden which had a number of stunning sculptures in it. The garden inspired me to write this poem.

Sculptures in Eden

Manicured lawns drop toward still water
tightly constrained beyond the tree line.
An Acacia shaped Hawthorn leans casually
to cast dappled shade and invite a picnic rug.

Light, dances in the watery mantle of a sculpted orb,
ethereal images flicker deep within the crystal ball.
A robin briefly joins the axe head on its pine-butt plinth
his steely facsimile glints in its gleaming cheek.

This glorious opera house, filled with bel-canto
is a living metaphor for the flooded vale below.
A tranquil oasis, envisaged and sculpted by man
yet filled with beauty crafted by a greater hand.

John Carré Buchanan
27 May 2014

For Pam

The Robin

Today I made yet another trip down to the idyllic Moulin Huet Tea Room. Whilst I was there I was inspired to pen a short poem about one of the garden’s residents, who was intent on letting everyone know that he owned the joint. He also graciously allowed me to take his photo.

I hope you enjoy the poem.

The Robin

The Robin owns this place
it's clear for all to see
if he isn't on the bench
he's perched up in a tree.

He hops and jumps and glides about
to search the leafy shade
for morsels of his favourite food
a banquet ready-made.

His pips betray his presence
before you see him clear,
with fiery flash, his Scarlett bib
announces; 'I am here.'

Then the little fellow pips
with voice both loud and true,
as if to say; 'well ok;
I'll share my place with you'.

John Carré Buchanan
02 July 2014