The Guid Man's Acre

I came into the garden one autumn day,
A Belfast boy tattered and wild.
       The gardener there knew me,   
    He took kindly to me,
And brought me in, like his own child.

He showed me the garden, a sweet scented maze,
And a copper beech hedge he had made
      Round the Guid Man's Acre,
      Where my caretaker
Was glad to abandon his trade.

For the rest of the garden was tended and neat,
But here was all let to grow free.
      From deep in the thicket
      Of field mouse and cricket,
I felt unseen eyes upon me.

My time in that garden taught me to feel
That the only possession I need
      Is earth, my foundation,
      In endless rotation
Sunwards, under my feet.  

      -- Aidan Meehan,   Vancouver BC,  New Year's 1981.