Old Man Gardener


We're in the Rose garden
tended by an old bearded gardener.
We're at the heart of His creation.

Welcome to my West Country,
Welcome to the orchards. Now, isn't it time
you had a glass of Perry wine?

I've got some weaver friends
want to meet you soon. That Summer Land
you longed for is no myth;

And that slim golden stem that links us
Forever will wrap itself around your soul
Like an unbreakable dodder vine.