The Garden


Field of Flowers

The Garden

Imagine all the love our lives enclose

 if placed within walled garden’s memory.

There gently falls the rain where grows the rose

as droplets tremble in the wind and flee.

A wondrous world with rain-bowed colors blown

‘neath places in the sun where true things grow.

So be our rose whose petals now are flown

yet youth and passion’s heart remain and glow.

Oh, love’s true colors beam and breathe.

She grows, undying,  in green bowers where

her petals show a bold, bright destiny

so wild,  her vines are willing yet to share.

And our imagined rose, forever free

remains within our garden’s memory.

 

 

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One Comment on “The Garden”

  1. Carol
    December 29, 2017 at 7:50 pm #

    I like dark poems.

    Like

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