Written by Susan Lane SLCM Keeper of ColourMine
Garden Bench: From the perspective of an inherited garden bench.
I’m just an old garden bench
I came here from another place
All battered and worn, I looked a disgrace
But that was only surface, you see.
Nothing to shout about; it didn’t worry me
I spent so many happy years there
Until my owners died and went away
Now I’m enjoying a different life
Almost like one of her strays
But I actually like it over here
Not that it’s all partying and good cheer
It’s just different from what it used to be
And it’s a little too noisy for me
With next door’s cockatoo shouting quite merrily
When her owner drops in for food
She squawks and screeches
She’s so pleased to see her female owner
I get quite fed up because I keep wishing,
Please, go away
But that’s not to be
You know what really bothers me
It hasn’t got a volume control, so you can’t turn it down
Just before you have a sleep.
I’m quite close to where that bird seems to be
And I like the protection of the huge shrubbery
I’ve been broken and, unsuccessfully,
Repaired several times throughout these past few years
But I know the score; it doesn’t really matter
Because they don’t ever sit on me;
No-one really cares. because I'm inherited, you see
It’s not like they actually chose to buy me
Because I’m slightly broken and they might land on the floor
They obviously don’t want to blame me
For chucking them off and making them sore
So, I’m still here happy but a bit bored
I’m still enjoying this garden; I watch the comings and goings
Of all that nature has provided for me,
The birds, the bees, the squirrels and the wretched flies,
Which are only there because of the cattle I don’t see,
The local foxes and the cats,
They all pop along to see me
The old geriatric who looks a bit odd in this garden scene
ColourMine has got lots of photo-shots, without me.
I think she must be ashamed to let me be seen.
Everyone comes to join in the throng
The shrubs and the trees, they come along
Then when they’re finished and it’s time to go
One morning we wake up, and they’re a no-show.
Hopefully, I can stay because although
I may be old and really low
A garden bench actually helps everything flow
Now it looks like I may be
Staying because the lady of the house
Appears to have another use for me
Garden Bench – She writes poetry you see
And inspiration strikes whenever she looks at me
Mulling all that has been
And pondering all that could be knowing in the evening
If she sits quietly the bats can be seen
She remembers all the times gone by
Things that she has seen
When the sun came out on display to enable the kids play
And hide, and have a game of I Spy.
Now the season has changed to winter again
And life is not so full of cheer;
I’m getting cold and damp;
She trimmed all the bushes last month and
Therefore I’m not quite so sheltered here
It’s turning quite chilly for the time of year
But I’m not complaining, oh no, my dear
I’m just an old garden bench and I absolutely love
This place I’m in now, is far more secluded
Than where I was this time last year, brrrr 🥶
© Susan Lane SLCM. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored, or transmitted in any form without prior written permission from the author.
ColourMine poetry, and the original photographs, are completely authentic to myself, Susan Lane SLCM – no AI, no plagiarism, all checked and verified by copyleaks
Apologies for the emoji presentation – I tested several, but this was the only one that worked reliably on ColourMine. Just click the box next to the emoji and hit submit, and I’ll know if the poem resonated with you. Thank you for sharing your feelings.
More poems written by Susan Lane SLCM, and you can choose by category
Blog | Organic voice | A happy survival of triumph here
Speak freely, ColourMine and myself will be pleased to hear from you.
