Peter's tropic isle

My Pacific Isle

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.

Coconut palm on a sandy tropical beach