A boy I did see from my purple window
In the sky.
He was strongly built, tall and all the
Things one would think a Gardener's
Apprentice would be.
Each day at dawn, I saw him emerge
From the ivy of the gatehouse like a
Little spring shoot and head out, orange
Sun awakening from behind pearly cloud,
And smile to the trees and the flowers
Now, to think of the years I did spend
In laughter, dwelling in jokes to think that
Each day - every day - he rose early like
A rose blooming and walked amongst
The rows of plants
While I slept, or saw or watched from
Beyone the window, viewing things Sucessfully and easily from there, until
One day when he - the gardender's apprentice - did stop his blooming
Wonder having caught sight of me above
And shouted "What is it you are looking for?" to which I replied (half taken aback)
That I didn't know.
"Then come with me!" He did call. Do you too lack purpose? I replied, believing I knew the answer. "No," he replied, shaking his head, "I think I may have one for you." Oh really? I did smirk. What could you offer me? "A love perchance to bloom." He smiled. "Blossoms perchance to turn to fruit."
So away with him I did run, to plant seeds Perchance to grow. And grow they did; that summer and every summer to come, Nymans had the best flowers and fruit of anywhere.
Never again did I return to my single purple window high in the clouds.
Author Notes: The picture is actually a photo of Nymans Gardens in the South East of England.