The glory of the garden - reflections on the Pandemic

The Glory of the Garden - Rudyard Kipling adapted for 2020 by Lori Wood Williams

Our England is a garden, full of stately views,

of borders, beds and hot tubs, and definitely no queues.

A Steak up on the bbq, a Labrador bouncing by;

But the joy within the garden is more than meets the eye.

If you want to have a garden you can find all you need to know,

by searching on the internet for every plant that grows.

Videos, blogs and magazines, there’s an awful lot of chatter;

But is it all the talking, or the opinions that really matter?

A nation of armchair gardeners of talkers and not doers

Plans unfinished, dreams not met, and our gardens were the losers

Get a man in! Buy a tool! A quick fix was what we’d seek.

But that all changed for the better in one very mad March week…

There came to us a virus, so deadly and unknown

Our very lives were threatened and we had to stay at home.

No outings, no work, no contact with most of the outside world,

the garden then became our friend, the place where we were hurled.

It was the place we were told, to meet with friends, and family too.

Open space, two meters apart and face masks it's what we had to do.

The garden, once neglected, a revival place became

And outdoor life once for the few, was now everyone's domain.

It became almost impossible to find a tradesman to transform,

garden centres, finding paint and many other things we mourned.

but within that English spirit, long had dormant lay,

we took up our trowels and hedge trimmers and gardened our own way.

Patios built, hot tubs homed and pergolas were made,

plants were tended, vegetables grown, children and adults played

Together we built our gardens each to his needs and style,

all people there, equal least ways for a while.

Beyond where the clematis grows beside the neighbour wall

You'll find the shed and greenhouse which are the heart of all

The hand tools and electric, for gardening with ease.

The barrow and the cold frame and the boxes, filled with seeds.

And if you look real closely you’ll see them young and old

The grandads and the and the granddaughters, braving out the cold.

We hear the hums of mowers, the drill and digger too

And everyone gets busy for there’s such a lot to do.

Some can graft a rose bush and others know their weeds

half the joy in the garden is spent upon your knees.

A garden gives us purpose, there’s a joy in that aching back

It makes up for things were missing, of all that we might lack

Our abilities don’t matter here is willingness that's key,

And money doesn’t have to impact everything we seek.

Old things can be transformed where plants grow everywhere

And a beautiful place created for just a little care.

Our England is a garden and such gardens are not made

By singing oh how beautiful and sitting in the shade

We are those better men that Kipling wrote of old

Gardening for a better life, a beauty to behold.

And when this deadly virus is driven from our shore

We’ll all have beautiful gardens and peace will reign once more.

So when your work is finished you can wash your hands and pray

For the glory of the garden, and the joy in that next day!

For the glory of the garden, and the joy in that next day!

Lori Wood Williams 2020 - observation on the pandemic

The glory of the garden - reflections on the Pandemic - last updated 1.3.25