A Garden for Pablo: Even greater generosity

Tuesday, 22 April 2014

Even greater generosity

A Daffodil update

View from the french windows

Back to Marie Curie and just to let everyone know that in addition to the magnificent £3,500 donated in local supermarkets in March, we have also received the terrific sum of £1,800 collected from daffodil boxes placed in local shops, pubs, hairdressers etc etc in the area.

A huge Thank You


The entrance to Pablo's Garden which you can visit on Sunday 6th July under the National Gardens Scheme

1 comment:

Wendy R22 April 2014 at 03:38
Looking forward to the open day for your garden, (And maybe giving a helping hand... )You have had a great daffodil time. And all for Marie Curie wxx
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Garden Lore

Who will take care of this garden, who will nurture it?

I will, said January.

I will anchor it to the earth with snowdrops.

I will give it my stone, the garnet.

It is mine, said February.

I will feed it the memory of all that grows.

I will welcome it with amethyst and primrose.

I will coax it with bloodstone and daffodil, said March.

Like a boxer battered by winter

I will lift myself from the frosty canvas of the earth to welcome it.

With diamond and daisy I will seduce it.

I will soak it in shower after shower, said April.

In the yawny earth its seeds will riot.

I will make it dizzy with emeralds

And the fumes of the hawthorn, said May.

It will know of nothing but play.

And I will adorn it with a necklace

Of honeysuckle and ruby, said June.

It will dance to my languid tune.

I will contain it, said July.

I will handcuff it with briar and chrysolite,

Drug it with the scent of roses.

August spoke from the garden’s stillness.

I will weep layer upon layer of sardonyx.

I will teach it the brevity of poppies.

When its bones begin to creak

I will cure it with aster and opal,

promised September.

I will guide it towards sleep with the cold light of sapphires;

For its lullaby I will provide the swan song of dahlias,

said October.

Under the weight of dead chrysanthemums I will bury it,

said November. I will give it a headstone of topaz,

a rosary of berries.

And I will guard its sleep, said December.

On a pillow of moonstone

It will dream of holly and the coming snowdrop.

Brian Patten