An ornate gate opens up to a stone pathway,
That winds around a walled garden,
Where well-kept rosebushes reside beside wild flowers
And tall thistles, that sway gently in the breeze,
Like hundreds of purple-headed people looking in.
A circular centre-piece in the very middle,
Houses a small concrete pedestal awaiting a statue,
And all around it, lashings of lavender
Attracts a host of bumblebees and butterflies,
Ladybirds and old ladies.
Brick columns form a ring around the centre;
Up which thick rose stems entwine themselves,
And spread out along the wooden beams above.
At the edges of the garden are wooden shelters,
Snapped up for a spot of shady seclusion,
And to one side, beyond a thick wall of holly,
Children can be heard playing in the park,
Oblivious to the picturesque setting,
That’s only a stone’s throw away.