The Mansion Gardens
by Alan Morrison
Shall we stroll those mansion gardens,
baize on baize of velvet grass
so well-kept and un-walked-upon?
Come on, love, we've cut the coupons,
let's see those shouting flowers
round grounds of ivy towers.
Shall we walk those mansion cloisters
verged with portraits? There's the Lords
and Ladies, and their ancestors
hanging, framed and ashen-faced.
But why are they ashen-faced dear,
when they lived respectfully here?
Shall we stroll those dust-still rooms –
well, just alongside, take a little
look at them, just peep inside?
They're cordoned-off with red rope…
just like our lives…
oh, we'll cope.
Shall we pace those mansion chambers
ringed by pasty-plaited rope…
easily unhooked and disobeyed…
No – that would be to abandon
our law-abiding principles…
what's wrong is always irresistible…
Shall we recall those mansion gardens,
baize on baize of velvet grass
so well-kept and un-walked-upon?
I'm not envious: simply a dreamer:
those lawns seemed so much greener…
Reprinted with permission of the poet, Alan Morrison ©. All rights reserved.