Garden

Perhaps I'm less urban than I fancy myself..I have recurrent visions of a garden, planting one, hiding out in one, in a shade, quiet, serene -- a live, growing garden. I park a few blocks from work and walk through back alleys -- the only time I really am aware of nature, of summer around me. The scents, the sounds of a garden behind a  fence are so intriguing.. I like to think of plants and trees I'd have in mine.  A Taurus, after all, I should be all about earth and earthly pleasures..I'm missing out on something big then. A true escapist's delight, a secret garden..I have a collective memory of what I loved in the gardens I've seen --Dogrose bushes, sweet and buzzing with bees,  fragrant currants, bright yellow marigolds.. A screened porch facing in, all draped in vine. An odd  angel, or two..A swing, maybe. No lawn, nothing posh about my garden, it would grow wild with dandelions and tall grass and all sorts of life banned from a formal landscape. Mole holes, burrows, butterfly cocoons. And a dreamy young gardener to keep it this way and make me wreaths of wild clover and daisies.. and roll giant dubies while I sunbathe naked :)..  I do digress, a garden is a dream. A dream I'll plant here for now, along with my dream house, my vast imaginary sea-scapes and terraces of white marble and everything else I don't even know yet I can't live without..