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The Glory of the Garden

Magnificent magnolia.

A rose with rosy hues.

Plumbago, agapanthus,

both different shades of blue.


Azaleas, hydrangeas.

A dazzling display.

Trillium grandiflorum,

such a bright array.


Daffodils and tulips

brighten up the spring

and crocuses and snowdrops

bring joy to everything.


Gorgeous looking hollyhocks,

could any flower grow higher?

Hellebores and hyacinths

that really do inspire.


So many types of flowers;

acanthus and achillea.

Some that we know well

and some not so familiar.


Lilies and violas

and pelargoniums too.

Dandelions and daisies;

we must include them too!


Hostas and hibiscus

and wonderful witch hazel.

Godetias and gypsophila

are surely bound to dazzle.


Monkshood looks so pretty

to include it would be good.

The trouble is it’s poisonous,

so I wonder if we should!


Begenias, begonias,

astilbes and astrantia.

Could any flower garden

find anything that’s fancier?


Doronicum, dicentra,

chrysanthemums, cuphea

and cyclamen and cosmos

all happy to appear.


And clarkia and clematis

to name another two.

Campanula and brunnera

and red hot pokers too.


Delphiniums and lupins,

geraniums galore.

Such rich and varied flowers

that our gardens have in store.


The London Pigeon.

City high flyers

buy and sell shares.

The traffic flies

round Trafalgar Square.

And planes fly

into Heathrow.


But the humble London pigeon

just flies into a quiet

West London garden

and forages

among the weed patch.


He pays no heed

to the FTSE 100.

They don’t like pigeons

in Trafalgar Square

and pigeons are much more

environmentally-friendly

than noisy aircraft!


So not exactly the highlife;

but not a bad one, being a pigeon

on a weed patch in

West London!



Churchill and Chartwell

The splendid home of Chartwell,

where Winston lived his days,

is steeped in glorious history;

all visitors to amaze.


The place just lives and breathes him.

The grounds they show his skill;

the lake, the restful fishpond,

the garden to distil.


Just wander round the area

and view the Weald of Kent.

Imagine Churchill painting it

and the happy hours he spent.


The house that stands so boldly,

its owner to reflect.

Bears witness to his courage;

to which we pay respect.


The beauty of the dining room,

the study, desk and books.

The room with all his uniforms

that dazzle when you look.


This literary genius.

This man of many parts.

The holder of high office

and lover of the arts.


The wartime superhero,

who strode the world stage,

inspiring his country.

A prophet for his age.


When all seemed black and hopeless,

his speeches spurred us on;

to fight them on the beaches,

keep calm and carry on.


Bespectacled and portly

and holding his cigar;

with his classic ‘V for Victory’,

he made us win the war.


London Life.

Oh to be in London

at any time of year.

A vibrant cultured City

that people hold so dear.


Myriad entertainment,

from music in the pubs

to (if you can afford it),

sumptuous dinners in its clubs!


The sights, the sounds,

the atmosphere, so many things to see.

The stimulating galleries

and such a lot for free.


A summer’s walk in Hyde Park.

A stroll beside the river.

A visit to Buck House,

to make our senses quiver.


The London bus and taxis

fly round Trafalgar Square.

Whilst Nelson turns a blind eye

to all the pigeons there!


The Churches and Cathedrals

abound in majesty.

Reflecting all God’s glory

for everyone to see.


Oh to be in London,

in winter, spring or fall,

with all its many pleasures

our senses to enthral.


The Local Park

The local park is a fabulous place,

we are lucky to have such a wonderful space.

For it’s really a boon and such a pleasure

to wander around it at our leisure.


There’s beautiful trees and shrubs and plants,

our outdoor experience to enhance.

They change with the seasons all year round,

our senses pleasantly to astound.


The sadness of autumn’s fading glow

as nature itself ceases to grow.

Then snow in the winter and bitter winds too,

make us longingly wait for spring to break through.


In summer the grass is a perfect stage

for displaying tanned bodies of every age.

With eating and drinking and soaking up sun

and leaving of litter, which isn’t much fun!


Dogs and dog walkers freely abound

a social kaleidoscope that keeps going round.

Chatter and barking and leaping and play

bringing joy to everyone day after day.


There’s fitness fanatics and joggers and all

and kids in the playground having a ball.

Sliding down slides and swinging on swings,

a roundabout way of enjoying such things.


Then as hours of daylight gradually fade,

stunning sunsets are gloriously displayed.

And squadrons of parrots fly to their nests,

high up in the trees they gratefully rest.


The Seasons.

In spring we bring fresh eyes to see

the beauty of a cherry tree.


When spring is done, in summer sun

we play, we bathe and have such fun.

Lying under apples trees

to see the sky and hear the bees.


In autumn’s sad and fading glow

we have to let the summer go.

In sorrow we’re inclined to wallow,

till solace we find in misty hollow.


Then all too soon the winter bites,

like a savage dog that loves to fight.

The unforgiving frost that teems

and freeze-frames life itself it seems.


Until we’ve almost given in,

then suddenly - we find it’s Spring.


Tony’s book

“A Day at the Zoo”

is available on Amazon at £6.96

All poems are copyright Tony Inwood and can only be reproduced by permission.

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