Dawn Jungle

Early Morning visits to my garden

  

When I was a little girl

I used to get up early, early morning

Because the backdrop of a decaying England

Was a beautiful array of stars

 

I’d take the rusted key to the garden

Way before the sun was due

My feet plump and white with cold

On cold hard limestone ground

 

And then beyond the garden path

Into the wild, green overgrowth

A jungle of overgrown emerald

Flowers blossomed and spread their exotic scent

 

An exotic place

Where my fantasies nurtured

In the shaded, darkness

Where I crawled

 

A spider’s web glistening with dew

Roses were precious crystals

Glimmering in the shine of stars

And  moon in a velvet pink- purple sky

 

I was not in poor, impoverished England

My jungle turned from concrete to vegetation

I touched the humid warmth of Africa

Like Livingstone, I was lost

 

Revolutionary feeling

Of love, wonder and exploration

Sent my little heart fluttering

Like the butterflies settling on my shoulder

 

There I felt peace and serenity

I was one with nature

And the night, a child of the dawn

I found solace in the damp dark jungle coves

 

 My honey brown curls became infatuated

With multicoloured petals they adopted

Soil and dirt took to my

Mickey Mouse Pyjamas brought from Tesco

 

I know beauty

It isn’t found in magazines

Or in objects of material value

But in moments such as this

Author's Note

Documenting my memories through poetry rather than story-form biography.

Reviews

[C.T. Bailey]

"I know beauty

It isn't found in magazines

Or in objects of material value

But in moments such as this"
Magnificent. You are years ahead of your youth. It has taken me two decades to understand this simple truth. I was transported to a different place through your writing. Wonderful descriptive text....even though not noted...I could hear the wrought iron gate closing. This is a writing for dreams.
Todd

[AK]

Very nicely done!

[East of Eden]

Wow I am there. It's so vivid. Every word is beautifully rendered. I love the humour too. Wondrous work.

[Carole]

Emily, this is beautiful in every sense of the word, girl. Your imagery was enamoring throughout this piece, but the portion of your poem that really caught me was the last stanza:

I know beauty

It isn't found in magazines

Or in objects of material value

But in moments such as this

You have definitely pin pointed something that is of absolute eternal value, to all who read it. This ought to be plastered on billboards around the world! There is absolute NOTHING when it comes to the material, that compares to what you have shared in this poem. You can't put a price on the things that TRULY matter. I am richer having read this! Thank you, Emily! Have a GREAT day!

[Casanova]

I loved the images you wrote about and I think poetry is your gift for allowing everyone to see the world through your eyes-well done

[Liam]

The imagery is fab, and just to criticise you, I think the last line is slightly off. Maybe:
"I know beauty

It isn't found in magazines

Or in objects of material value

But moments like these"

[Patient Poet (Yos)]

Thats beautiful, wish I have been in that garden :)