Between our house and our garage, we have a small patch of garden that catches the sun only for a couple of hours of each day. Every January/ February, the tiny area is dominated by the extraordinary perfume of the Sweet Box.
The gloom of receding winter,
laying heavy on a patch of closed-in
garden,
is pierced by the intense
aroma from miniscule flowers of Sweet Box.
Against the damp and chilly earth
Snowdrops glisten exquisitely
in an occasional shaft of sun.
That same sun causes
Winter Aconites to lift their heads,
as if to seek a frugal warmth.
So, this small square of our planet,
with its responses
to the fleeting rays of a low sun,
becomes a hope-filled sanctum,
where senses are aroused
by seasonal blessings
