On the first spring day of prolonged clear sunshine
she mows the lawns, weeds the paths, hoes the borders,
counts the figs, admires the honesty,
tends the low lavender hedge – then relaxes
on a lounger in front of the gazebo,
framed by clematis and magnolia blooms.
She sleeps, safe in the garden’s ivy clad
chambers – the alfresco rooms she has made
from soil ravaged by lime and gravel.
If she lies too long she will catch the sun –