I dedicate my latest poem to all the wonderful, passionate, knowledgeable gardeners out there, in honour of World Poetry Day today. I know your gardens call to you too...

My Garden Calls to Me

My garden calls to me
It seems to know my name
I hear its restless whisper
Through the softly falling rain 

My garden beckons me
Into the misty dawn
Where I find myself bare-foot
Upon a dew-bejewelled lawn

My garden nurtures me
It reciprocates my toil
It knows the roots of humans too
Lie deeply in the soil

My garden tries to please me
It renews itself each day
Altering in each moment
In infinitesimal ways

My garden likes to tease me
With all I’ve yet to know
Chuckling at my failures;
My crude attempts to grow

But my garden - it forgives me
It lets-go my mistakes
The bold lithe shoots of hope instead
Unfurling in their place 

My garden whispers, ‘Come outside
The day has just begun
Come out here and tend to me 
The best is yet to come!’