‘The Glory of the Garden’ by Rudyard Kipling Our England is a garden that is full of stately views, Of borders, beds and shrubberies and lawns and avenues, With statues on the terraces and peacocks strutting by; But the Glory of the Garden lies in more than meets the eye. For where the old thick laurels grow, along the thin red wall, You’ll find the tool- and potting-sheds which are the heart of all The cold-frames and the hot-houses, the dung-pits and the tanks, The rollers, carts, and drain-pipes, with the barrows and the planks. And there you’ll see the gardeners, the men and ‘prentice boys Told off to do as they are bid and do it without noise ; For, except when seeds are planted and we shout to scare the birds, The Glory of the Garden it abideth not in words And some can pot begonias and some can bud a rose, And some are hardly fit to trust with anything that grows ; But they can roll and trim the lawns and sift the sand and loam, For the Glory of the Garden occupieth all who come. Our England is a garden, and such gardens are not made By singing:-‘Oh, how beautiful,’ and sitting in the shade While better men than we go out and start their working lives At grubbing weeds from gravel-paths with broken dinner-knives There’s not a pair of legs so thin, there’s not a head so thick, There’s not a hand so weak and white, nor yet a heart so sick But it can find some needful job that’s crying to be done, For the Glory of the Garden glorifieth every one. Then seek your job with thankfulness and work till further orders, If it’s only netting strawberries or killing slugs on borders; And when your back stops aching and your hands begin to harden, You will find yourself a partner In the Glory of the Garden

Thank you for setting up this memorial to Ken. We hope that you find it a positive experience developing the site and that it becomes a place of comfort and inspiration for you to visit whenever you want or need to.

I am I and you are you, whatever we were to each other that we still are. Speak to me in the easy way which you always used. Why should I be out of mind because I am out of sight? Life means all that it ever meant, it is the same as it ever was.