In a Garden -by Elizabeth Jennings

When the gardener has gone this garden
Looks wistful and seems waiting an event.

It is so spruce, a metaphor of Eden
And even more so since the gardener went,

Quietly godlike, but of course, he had
Not made me promise anything and I
Had no one tempting me to make the bad
Yet I still felt lost and wonder why.

Even the beech tree from next door which shares
Its shadow with me, seemed a kind of threat.

Everything was too neat, and someone cares

In the wrong way.
I need not have stood long
Mocked by the smell of a mown lawn, and yet
I did.
Sickness for Eden was so strong.

Elizabeth Jennings