In a shaded garden

Of Bluebells and Ivy

I saw a woman,




Alone in her thought

She sat,

On an old wooden bench

Breaking slowly

In that garden of Bluebells and Ivy.


Tall grass of varying colour

Stood waving slowly under

The dark shadow of

An ancient, bending tree.


Folding under the weight

Of age.

She stared at the ground,

Lost in a world forgotten

By all but her.


The Bluebells seemed to grow,

The Ivy crept further

Towards its goal,

As time stopped

For her alone.


As I leave the

Garden of Bluebells and Ivy,

I see her change.

A faint sketch of

A smile at a long-lost



I depart, a winding

And cracked path

Leading me nowhere

But under the dappled sky.


A path well-worn

For years

As friends of ages

Before mine walk

Past me,

With me,

Through me.


And I know.

I know why

The Sad Woman