Where I live
can only be properly called suburbia and yet
pretty lanes exist
and the remains of old stone walls
provide a glimpse of farms
and villages that used to be.
These attractive stones
border a busy main road.
This tiny section of the world
our house and many others are built on
gets its name from a 15th century woman
Lady Jane Barre.
This is a boundary wall from a farm
built on her estate
long after her demise.
She left behind an ancient moat too. It was drained by the family that owned the farm and later refilled. Another day I’ll take photos of the moat. For now though I’ll leave you with these beautiful grass verges filled with Spring flowers.
And this short poem modelled on Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird
Stanza VIII (Wallace Stevens):
Verge
I know fabulous blooms
cultivated under glass;
cut, for the cut glass vase.
Yet I know too that tiny hedgerow flowers
are where it all begins.
Susan Jane Sims
Happy Easter
