Forgotten Greenhouse
after John Keats
In twilight’s hush, where shadows softly fall Upon the greenhouse, forgotten, still The ferns, like sentinels of green, stand tall Their delicate fronds, a gentle, whisperless call To secret life, that in the glassy space Unfolds, untouched, a world of its own pace The scent of damp earth rises, rich and cool As in the hidden places, roots take hold And tendrils creep, a slow, insistent sway Through cracks and crevices, a verdant, thriving way
In this neglected space, a beauty lies A testament to life’s persistent, quiet might That even in abandonment, it still implies A will to flourish, a determination to take light And so the greenhouse stands, a verdant, vibrant whole A secret world, where life and beauty unfold
I took the focus on sensual experiences and the beauty of nature from John Keats, and applied it to a subject he might have recognized but never written about - a forgotten greenhouse. I aimed to capture the quiet, persistent might of life and beauty in this neglected space.