The Secret Garden

As the weather gets better

and the sun shines through

As the evenings get longer 

and l struggle with the heat in the apartment

(and my own fluctuating temperatures)

I long to be sitting quietly

amongst the branches and the greenery

of my own secret garden

this is Chatsworth Square

a Victorian residential town square

designed for the great and the good of Victorian Carlisle

the garden is chained and locked,

there only for the residents of the square

my road runs behind the square and 

I can peek out over

to this greenery from my kitchen and bathroom windows

if l stretch and crane my neck

last week I wrote of the beckoning lilacs, 

and how l  poached a handful of blooms 

the lush square

offers four gates within its belt of  ironwork fencing

north, south, east and west facing

this is the south gate

... which l dream would be my gate!

l peer through and covet the space

seemingly unspoiled,

lightly maintained not highly manicured

it calls to me

l feel its pull,

a tension as l walk past

a healing place

to rest 

to mend
and take time

I want in, 

I need in...

(I have a plan...

no...l shall not climb nor trespass...

watch this space!)