The Garden: Your Celebration, our Celebration of You

A shed made from doors, an aviary made from from frames,

chicken wire to the right, heat lamps to the left,

Thick rope on our swings, two planks as the base,

A little red oiling can,

and a vice, sloe gin barrels and funnels,

Your Happy Place

The wireless playing on our doll's house roof – that you hand made,

Our marble dance floor, our private litte stage,

A toilet bowl with pansies in, that you insisted was "all the rage", our views of the hills, where all our memories were made...

Your pampas grass is still blowing, the rockeries will never fade, We'll all meet You in our garden, our forever Happy Place,

A poem in celebration of You and your garden, Dad.