Powerscourt, In Bloom

Powerscourt Gardens and Waterfall, Powerscourt Estate, County Wicklow, Ireland


We set out from Summerhill

to cross the road—to finally cross

this from the list: to make our way up

the long lane to the esteemed estate, this

strange place, strange

in that we’d heard so much

but never seen its face.

Our nearest neighbor.



She’d crossed the sea to see me after all.

She’d come to Enniskerry and I wanted my wife-to-be

to be impressed. So: Powerscourt

it was. And out we went. Onward. Upward.


And even if we hadn’t—

hadn’t made it here, hadn’t even set forth—


the name alone would exist, and impress. The mere

look and sound of it. All that it suggests.




The walk was long but led to all

we’d longed for: the sweet view of Sugarloaf,

the coast’s greatest mountain; but also

wonders of lower grandeur: water

arcing, water

falling, water unfaltering,

water lilies, their pads on the ponds,

their purple-pinks and pinkish-whites

beneath a shocking spread of sky

blocked only in spots by palm fronds.


[Powerscourt in Bloom, page 2, new stanza]

Mist and moss affixed

to statues and rocks alike.


Garden, garden

and far more garden.


Stick to the stone path. See

petals in a fountain.



But then, just like that,

the sun was considering the moon,

letting it take its turn. We too felt

we might be done for the day.

All of this would still be here tomorrow—

the blooming earth

like young love’s wandering mind.

By: Jeff , Country: West Virginia, USA

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