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My Garden Path

My poem below tells the story behind my creative process when painting my Garden. The painting has a light touch creating a mystical atmosphere of intrigue so the viewer can take a stroll along the path to engage their imagination in the layers and synchronistic accidents as the paint caresses the canvas. Here is the poem.

The grit of the garden path,
Sticks to my feet,
As I wind my way through the garden,
Each granule a moment in time,
Some mountainous, and some valleys deep
irresistible to waters flow.
The dappled darting light flits,
shifting my focus,
Now autumn, turns her
Gentle glaze inward.
Still a fern fond, uncurls,
its black hairy mass,
a fierce force,
driving skyward,
Greets its counterparts,
already grown to green fullness.
The grape vine abundance spent
in resignation red with golden warmth,
it’s green tendrils
ever reaching for the last flush of life,
before the end.
The pot sits idly,
remembering Arabian nights,
sultans bedchambers
and cool courtyards with running water.
Now an empty vessel
Echoing memories across the garden.

My Garden Path

  • Medium: Oil on Canvas


    Size: 1200mm x 920mm

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