Adrian's poem

Orchard Cottage.1.I didn’t know that you were,solid green with shades of cowslip in between,grey stones plied from river bed, three razorsimmaculately left for bleeding, on a bleached basin.Your garden’s styled on Hampton Court,small pared trees and iris peeling back the gloveof winter soil. I’m stung by the eloquence of intimatedetail. I can hear the drips from open wounds andstripped pine bares the scars of stolen lovers.…………………….2.The morning walks softly around here,creeping from the marsh to strokethe yellow window panes. Your cottage nestleslike a warm thumb against its other digits, a calm rowof being, stacked up against the new road wherethe traffic barges. I’ve only glimpsed bits of youbefore, but now the puzzle forms a thin veneerof totems to a past. Long lazy summers of freshlycourted lemonade, sticky to the tongue, with a tartafter taste: like love.…………………………