Scribes Writers

Go to content

Main menu

- 2nd Free Verse

Poetry Competition



Second Prize


There's Rosemary  By Janeen Samuel

She went down, down, down
down to pluck the rosemary:
down from the Terrace where the sullen urns
held lilies white as bone;
across the Peacock Lawn (each tail a hundred eyes
staring, and the azure idiot birds
screaming, screaming);

down the wide, umber stairs,
shallow, sun-dozing,
to the Rose Garden where
paved paths wove charms around
Cupid in marble, but she never paused
nor turned to taste the blooms,
no longer believing in their sunrise hues
or soft seductive breath.

Beyond a gate
in a black arch of yew
the way dropped,
steep, through the Forest Walk;
dark leaves enclosed her,
boughs twisted into meaning,
ferns crouched in shadow,
and doves, unseen, pulled their long notes
from somewhere far away.

Below the wood, in the last garden ,
the Sunken Garden,
sunlight was different,
heavy as oil it lay
and lapped the stones;
bees droned morosely over the banked herbs
of muted green, breathing out thyme
and rue above a pool,
stone-cupped as in a skull,
where the fountain was stilled
and water motionless
revealing only sky
and her own self, leant over.

There was nowhere further ;
Weepmg now
she plucked the rosemary.

Back to content | Back to main menu