My English Garden

Is it really a walk if the farthest you get is your own backyard? I say yes, yes it is. And a beautiful walk indeed when lavender and candytuft, bleeding hearts and lilac trees, are in bloom, iris are promising color soon.

Besides, my little dog doesn’t like to go out to the yard alone so we stroll together across the deck, down the stairs, and onto the patio. I step gingerly into the grass to check out the blooms around the grassy area. I survey each plot of dirt, plucking “little damn-its” wherever they have sprung up since my last trip around the yard. Then I make my way up the winding paver pathway to the other set of stairs, plucking the feverfew daisies popping up between the stones. I love their tiny white flowers, but since my pup is allergic, and I love him more, I pluck each sprout resulting from the many seeds I sowed last year.

I hear a scratch at the back door. My indoor-loving cutie is ready to go in. I saunter up the short stairs to where he stands, impatiently waiting for me to open the door. The walk is over.

A spring ramble through
my lovely English garden
delivers God’s peace

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My Haibun for dVerse Poets Pub today. Head on over and see what other walks dVerse poets have taken us on today.