This is wonderful - I love the way it gently chastises us all for having
impossible dreams, that life is a bed of roses and everything in the garden
is lovely. If only!

Bringing in the chap with the Zimmer frame is a nice counterbalance to the
couple just setting out in their unsuitable footwear. 

I'm not sure about the last stanza, though, the first part seems to move out
of the garden centre and into something too built. The last line (surely
'leave'?)is a good closure.

What does 'the doe-eyed lab gazing over a small mortgage' mean?

Terri )O(

-----Original Message-----
From: The Pennine Poetry Works [mailto:[log in to unmask]] On Behalf
Of Colin dewar
Sent: 05 February 2004 18:39
To: [log in to unmask]
Subject: newsub/labels


 Labels

When you want out for a change of pace,
a garden centre's a good place to start.
Walk fragrant avenues with flowers from all over,
watch people thinking how each tender
specimen will slip into the dug hole,
to blossom in hoped for summer.

Take this cashmered couple, must be 20 something
leaning together over fuchsia, pictured
by the conservatory that they hope to build,
blood-red and burgeoning from its ceramic pot.
They are in love with labels, forget small print,
"Needs sunshine to flourish and protect from frost."

They talk softly to each other. I can just over hear
their plans for a pear tree beside the gate.
His suede shoes have not seen a garden yet,
nor her sky-scraper heels, but still they dream
of the Australian tree fern that they could plant there.
-(They'll try a small one out in Scotland, Central Belt)-
the docile children that they plan to have,
and the doe-eyed lab gazing over a small mortgage.

The passion fruit vine under glass flowers purple.
I don't doubt their intent for a minute
or how they picture it, always as stated,
"a vigorous climber". That's in Italy I think,
best kept from snow and frigid wind.
The photo on the card shows petals in sunlight
that they will come home to from their rich careers.
They add one more to the trolley, California Glory.

Nearby a man with woollen cap and Zimmer
lifts up a specimen of Bougainvillea,
but then he lowers it to lift instead
a ground-hugging Arctic Willow. I see him
with a drawer full of labels at home
that he opens and looks in, from time to time.

The docile children are back, on the walls
of the swimming pool, and on the barbecue set,
contented - but have they seen the forecast yet,
or how many wait to catch the sun?
The car park is full and the cash desk hums.
There are not enough gardens in the country
to hold all the blossom that leaves here each spring.



Garden Centre, Milngavie, Spring 2003



Colin