Pristine.

I love the thriving mosses,
And all the fallen leaves.
I love the fruiting mushrooms,
And all the stubborn weeds.
I love the hardy Ivy,
And Brambles routing deep.
I love the little toad road,
The branches on the heap.
I love the lush Lavender
And how it blocks the way.
I love the tree that buds late,
And the Bluebells every May.
I love the Trailing Willow,
The Rosemary, Chives, and Sage.
I love the Creeping Thistles
At every single stage.

I love to see my garden
In wilder shades of green.
I know some can’t quite see it
But
It’s beautifully pristine.
-Essie Parker Walsh