Poetry by Jeff Green


The garden swing

by cricketjeff on September 19, 2008.  © Jeff Green, All rights reserved

In the corners of the garden stand two stately chestnut trees
    On the taller of the trees we’d hang a swing
In the freshness of the evening we would sit there at our ease
    As we’d wait to see the sights the night could bring
Down the path that wanders wisely past the swing on which we’d sit
    There’s a happy dog who saunters to his spot
And the flowers in the borders whisper words that seem to fit
    As the birds start singing songs of all they’ve got
Azaleas start sobbing at the beauty all around
    And roses sigh to see the scene that’s set
As you and I sit staring at the flowers on the ground
    And the birds up in the trees begin to fret
In the cool fresh air of evening I would kiss you on the lips
    And your lips would welcome mine and play the game
On the swing beneath the nut tree I would dance my fingers tips
    ‘Cross your skin while I begin to sigh your name
After hours of gentle swinging on the swing beneath the trees
    We would know the time had come that we should go
We would head back to the bedroom where we’d spend the night at ease
    And the swing keeps swinging softly to and fro