10th February 2021

I Made a Garden by Felix Dennis I made a garden on a hill Beside a wood – it stands there still, Six acres on a soft decline Where Saxons once kept sceap and kine. Within, I laid a maze of yew To loose myself and wonder through; Then hollowed out, with cunning art, New streams and ponds - then set apart An avenue of linden trees, Wild grasses, flowers for the bees, An orchard plot of plum and pear, And mossy mounds from which to stare. The summer house I thatched with straw, Then planted roses by its door, And from that seat they framed a view Of far-off hills that Housman knew. Beyond the hedge for purple miles Lay fields and footpaths, woods and stiles, While I would sit within the pale And serve my neighbours cakes and ale. But pride in Eden bred conceit, And though my garden was complete I cluttered it with ‘Wills’ and ‘Johns’ And ‘Josephines’ - each cast in bronze. They cost the earth, or close to that, Five million sterling, plus the VAT, And though my daisies stare, amazed, Now guards patrol where sheep once grazed. I made a garden on a hill - Ask not if I love it still.