KG reader Peter Dean dreams of an island holiday away from the cold winter rain
I entered a competition
In a gardening magazine.
I had to write a poem
About a garden I had seen.
I chose a lovely garden
That was here in my mind.
A piece of imagination
Where Heron’s could have dined.
Mammals and coloured singing birds
All called this land their own.
Free to wander and to fly
To graze and hunt and roam.
But my garden does not exist
It’s beauty is too great.
Golden butterflies and flowers
Live within its gate.
Fishes, crabs and reptiles
Glorious and free.
Gliding, crawling, swimming,
It was all real to me.
I posted off my entry
Before the competition’s date.
And forgot about my garden.
I hope it’s not too late?
Three months passed so quickly
I got on with other things.
The Spring merged with the Summer
And what nature freely brings.
Then one day my ring tone
Rang out of the blue.
The magazine’s editor
Told me it was true.
I had won the competition
My entry made her smile.
A holiday was mine
To a Pacific isle.
So, as I began to pack my bags
The tickets in my hand.
And a weighty cheque to cash
And spend in distant lands.
In my imagination
My garden came back to me.
I could not really believe
How lucky I could be.
Yahoo! From my beach hut
In amongst palm trees.
My poem has come to life
And surrounded me.
