Secret Gardens

A secret garden is a special place filled with hidden memories and dreams waiting to be revealed. This summer we have taken part in Salford’s Secret Garden Festival, a celebration of the city’s creative talent and an homage to Salford born writer Frances Hodgson-Burnett, author of The Secret Garden. We will share our secret garden poems at our Broughton Poetry Day event and invite local residents to share their secret garden stories.


Blue Mountains 2010


Blue mountains, warm rain, lush greenery.
Humid mists coming down like cotton wool clouds.
Waterfalls: cascade in majesty.

Tropical plants like exotic birds delight the eye,
their beauty almost makes me cry.
In a clearing a grotto appears.
Fairies in gossamer and gold
fly in and out of trees.

Resting on my shoulder
one of them whispers in my ear
‘I am love,’ another ‘peace.’
The last one says ‘I am hope’.

Such an enchanted place
where dreams can come true
if you believe enough.


by Jackie Harrison


A Garden in Heaven


I believe in life after death
It will be in a garden like no other garden on earth.

A place of perfection where the grass is so green
That it feels like you’re walking on the softest velvet.

A place where the blossom on the flowers is everlasting
pleasing perfume eternally filling the air.

A place where the sweet pomegranate trees grow:
A fruit from the heavens on earth.

A place where the water fountains gush and flow
And where their taste is so sweet.

A place where there is no pain
No heartache, no fear.

A place where one day I will be re-united with the dear babies
That I so sadly lost so early in their lives.


by Shabana Haider


Tranquility


I am in the garden on a swinging chair.
I am in a world of my own.  I can hear birds.
It’s late afternoon and I move my washing out of the shade.

My Granddaughter’s beautiful voice is chirping in my ear.
Her dress has yellow flowers
her hair curled around the glow of her cheeks.

She finds a ring
Oh this is beautiful I say it is my lost ring.
My feet feel the comfort of lush green grass.

The smell of next-door’s barbecue drifts over the fence
making my mouth water.
My dress lifts a little in the cool breeze.
I am singing this holy Nasheed to my granddaughter.
She looks so peaceful and calm falls asleep in my arms.

It has been a long and beautiful day
I look forward to the evening
to being surrounded by the perfume
of Queen of the Night.


 by Ibrat Naeem


Childhood Garden


I used to live with my granddad in Jehlum and the house was situated across the river.  In that house there was a very nice small garden.  The earth there was very good for crops.  As well as plants there were fruit trees and my granddad knew that I like the garden so he gave me the job of watering and caring for it. I especially loved the watermelon plant and took a lot of time to care for that.

Across from the garden was a river over which my granddad used to transport wood.  That was his job to move the wood from one side of the river to the other.

I do really miss the childhood memories of that garden: the smell of the flowers, the shade of the trees in summer, walking on the cool sand by the river in the evening, swimming in the water to get cool.  I wish I could bring back the memories into my present life.


by Nasreen Mirza


My Dream Island



After lunch I quietly relaxed in the old armchair.  The soft, warm velvet covering felt cosy and comforting to my touch.

My eyelids drooped and the grey daunting sky through the window faded away.  The grey became a pale turquoise expanse with soft white clouds floating and dotting the huge sky line.

The hot sun glistened and the sea waves had a rhythm all of their own.  The tropical plants that nestled close to the palm trees wafted their Jasmine perfume in the warm breeze.

‘At last, at last,’ I cried aloud.  ‘I have come to my own special island.’

Since I was a little girl over eighty years ago, I had yearned for this moment.  The sun caressed my whole being.  Life was just perfect.  Soft music from a steel band was just too wonderful, I swayed to the tempo feeling young again and fancy free.  The fine sugary sand tickled my toes and I chuckled as I sipped my coconut milk.

Suddenly I felt a gentle nudge.  ‘Wake up Mum, I’ve made you a nice cup of tea.’ 

It took a moment or two to realise that I had been all the way to the Caribbean and back, but alas only in my dreams.



by Rose Reynolds



Secret Garden


I am near the pond, sitting on the floor looking at the water
It is summer, the sun is shining, flowers are fully grown
It is afternoon, the heat is at its peak
My niece is running around the garden
I love her a lot.

She is wearing a pink frock and white shoes
A green door stands vertically without any building
There is a sweet smell of red roses
I am wearing a full white dress that belonged to my mother
I am humming to a tune that I have not heard before.


by Kalsoom Warriah







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