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Taylor Ryan

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Her Garden
by Taylor Ryan
Tuesday, April 17, 2007
Not rated by the Author.
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Recent poems by Taylor Ryan
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           >> View all 51

There is nothing like returning to a place that remains unchanged to find the ways in which you yourself have altered.
Nelson Mandela

Her Garden


Her garden, in retrospect…

Once an elixir, a passion

tended from cutting and seed.

She now bends to its release.

Surrounds of stacked stone

enmeshed in ivy’s blue-green,

tendrils tenaciously cling entwined,

outlining life’s disarray,

when a moment unexpectedly

took her away

from her flowers and her soil.


Jagged-edged weeds and the

choke of astilbe profusion

meander in puzzles of rocky paths, dew infused,

leading her to unknown places and life to relearn

in solitude sans embrace.

Arching pines enhance, tall and sheltering,

soft needled, sap laden

as antique roses caress

climbing above peony’s pink

gracing the confines of this feminine creation.

The work of her once patient hands

Nature’s demons now devour.


Cushions of angel haired herbs

season liriope triangles,

spider-like beneath lilac spires and hosta variegation.

A latticed bench stands empty

gathering moss upon its weathered teak,

a place where lovers should be stealing kisses

to an engagement of columbine, forget-me-nots,

and bleeding hearts.


Bold corners burgeon with hydrangea’s pristine whiteness

and bridal veil’s rivaling lace

dangling in pendulous balance as life,

amid delicate flowered cones

and rich green leaves,

endures in absencia.

Grassy waves ramble soft and wet under foot

While an angel dips toes in placid waters

awaiting ruffled feathers splashing, sundial timed,

in a perennial spa

as warm afternoon commingles with evening

and chipmunks play hide and seek with the butterflies

amid shade of phlox umbrellas and innocent daisy clusters.


All once an inspiration, an addiction

every species on the tip of her tongue…

a dawn to dusk ritual of self-indulgence

lies now in nature’s mercy,

beneath the tender’s  wistful eye,

abandoned as daylilies bore seed

and sedum flowered, now a tangle

in anticipation of tomorrow’s hope

washed in yesterday’s tears.

Iris tubers multiplied,

purple lambs-ear carpeted,

fuzzily blanketing the rich earth.

Freshly bathed birds borrowed ragged snippets ,

nested in the thorny bramble

and nibbled pyracantha berries while

perched above  black-eyed Susan’s choking mass

preparing for another day.

As did she, until

life unintentionally took her away

to other gardens and needs to tend.

But her seeds and roots remain with her;

they will blossom again.



Taylor Ryan

April 2007





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Reviewed by Poetess of The Soul Sheila G
I LOve this! I love this! I love this!
Gardening to me, is a Passion (as writing, cooking etc.)
but your words Tay- I could feel myselt THERE!
your words tantalize my thoughts!
WONDERFULLY done and felt!
Warmly, Warrior Purple Lady Sheeeoox

STay Positive!
Heal, LOVE and Believe!
Reviewed by Dark Knight
Sounds like a garden I would like to see-tho one does wonder what would happen should a Dark Knight and a Taylor Ryan were left alone?

Reviewed by Myrna Badgerow
But her seeds and roots remain with her;
they will blossom again

I love these closing lines! I love the whole poem but these two lines put a lump in my throat...
Reviewed by Randall Barfield
wow, a dazzling tour with all the names to boot! to me sad cause i am reminded of my own mom who so loved her gardening and flowers. she, too, knew every name and was everyone's 'consultant'. thanks for sharing this lovely garden and its perfect images of nature.
Reviewed by P-M Terry Lamar
I am (almost) wordless as I sit in awe of your delightfully rich talent.
Reviewed by Butch Howard
The plethora of precious floral images in this gorgeous poem, the way you have made it flow and the articulate expressions in every line grabbed me and pulled me right in to her garden. But, I sense a deeper meaning in what you have written far beyond the beauty of this flower garden. Something (or someone) has taken her away from this "elixir" and "passion" she dearly loves:
"All once an inspiration, an addiction
every species on the tip of her tongue…
a dawn to dusk ritual of self-indulgence
lies now in nature’s mercy,
beneath the tender’s wistful eye,"
To me, this poem is about an unexpected change that has occurred in her life and how this change has affected who she was vs. whom she has become:
"...preparing for another day.
As did she, until
life unintentionally took her away
to other gardens and needs to tend."
I suspect it would require a very powerful force to change her in this way -to cause her to forsake her precious garden for "other gardens to tend." I think it must be love -a new love which has brought about this change in her. I love the knowing optimism in the last two lines:
"But her seeds and roots remain with her;
they will blossom again."
This is one of the most powerful pieces of writing I have ever read. I have this haunting curiosity nagging at me to know what it is that has taken her away. Please let me know if I have made faulty assumtions or if I have read too much into this -but I don't think I have...
Your friend,
Reviewed by E. Richardson
my friend...for the first time in ages, I am not sure how to comment on a piece of work...other than to say that I am fascinated by it. You have blended a sweet but potent brew in this is nature, it is sensual, almost is both spiritual and magical. This is one of the best narratives I have read in ages.
Reviewed by Regis Auffray
Such a visual and symbolic creation, Taylor. Lovely and meaningful work. Thank you for sharing it. Love and peace to you,

Reviewed by Kate Burnside
This is such a wondrous profusion of both busy growth and sentiment that I find it quite intoxicating, Taylor. It seems to amplify the person that you speak of so very well. I guess it is sad that she is no longer present to nurture and tend to her creation, but I'm sure in many ways her spirit is at one with all the manifold ways in which life continues to diversify and magnify in her absence. I love all the thoughtfulness and care that has gone into this work... You are as the poetic garden and gardener you delineate. Bless you, K xx
Reviewed by J. Allen Wilson
Wow, your writes are so visual in in their beauty.

Outstanding...I loved this

Reviewed by Tinka Boukes
Masterfully written Taylor!!

Love tinka
Reviewed by Katherine Chandler
Taylor, your poem is nothing short of a masterpiece. The imagery was outstanding. I recall each and every flower from my grandmother's well tended garden many years ago as a child. There are distractions in life that take us away from those things we love so dearly, but as you said in the end, they will blossom again. I would say you have blossomed in this poem with a richness that far supasses anything I've read recently. Yours is truly a gift. I felt as though I were walking in that garden witnessing all that you wrote about. This is a sign of a great writer, dear. The word usage was astonding, to say the very least! With love sweet friend, Kate
Reviewed by Mr. Ed
A truly captivating piece, Taylor, and I truly love your ending. Mandela's quote is quite good, too.
Reviewed by Paul Berube

Your poem and garden were exquisitely described. Life seems to center around whatever means the most to us but sometimes we get sidetracked only to find our way back to the delicacies which brought us there in the first place. I hope this made sense because poetically speaking it gets no better than this.
Reviewed by La Belle Rouge Poetess Of The Heart
Lovely work Taylor, beautiful images.
Reviewed by CJ Heck
Beautiful poem, Taylor! As you've so astutely written, overgrown gardens, like overgrown lives, can be pruned and tilled and nurtured, the regrowth more healthy and vital than before ... wonderful imagery bathes this beautiful poem.
Reviewed by Debby & Gordon Rosenberg
be still my heart as i walked this garden with your poetry...a tender place for me as well, as i view how it grew wild while neglected
Reviewed by Andy Turner (Reader)
Remarkable imagery, one can vision it all..
Though, -i'm bonkers- i love wild gardens, to me they tell many stories, depending where my little brain meanders.
Good work, the passing through life..
Reviewed by jude forese
Cushions of angel haired herbs
season liriope triangles,
spider-like beneath lilac spires and hosta variegation.

one of the many splendid images in this flowering poem ...
Reviewed by Andre Bendavi ben-YEHU
The sublime meets wonders... Wisdom meets knowledge and music; and
a poem son of excellence and beauty is poetized under the smiles of ERATO.

I salute You, Poet.

In reverent admiration,

Andre Emmanuel Bendavi ben-YEHU
Reviewed by E T Waldron
My goodness Taylor, what a magnificent garden and poem you created about it! This is by far one of the most beautiful poignant poems I've read in a long while!Kudo's!

Reviewed by F William Broome
Yours is a labor of love for HER labor of love, in flowerland. I spent years with a lady who would recognize each and every... and the way you weave them into you master poem of nature. Being a novice who admires and partakes of the beauty others plant and tend, I say this: A gorgeous and inspiring accounting of what one person can plant, till and tend for sharing with others. Thank you from way down under the roots. I enjoy reading each word as a gem on the black velvet cloth of nature's colors. - Bill

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