Kitchen Garden at Heligan

Ancient knowing walls and an ivy-hidden gateway

jealously enfold the earth’s green aromas

damp soil, vegetation and softened wood.

Aged wisdom, old tools, straight lines

where canes, sisal and markers sign the paths

nets, sticks and cloches stand sentry for tender shoots.

There’s a calm here, a wash that cleanses

the mind and softens the heart,

bringing a warm melancholy, peace.

Even the raucous scrape of a spade

is damped by the peculiar, intensely heady climat.

Time is slowed, breathing slower

herbal scents arrive as onshore breezes

seeping from the valley below.

And out of focus, barely seen

Mevagissey’s lost boys

go silently about their gentle business.

*

© Graham Sherwood 06/2019