The garden by my house is locked,
the door is bolted tight,
the walls are high and strong
and topped with thorny briars.
I have been there many times,
and love to pass the day within,
but now I’m on the outside
and longingly looking in.
I yearn for the sweet fragrance
of the roses planted there,
or to taste the tender fruit
which withers now inside.
Was it I that lost the key,
or has the lock been changed?
It matters not which, unless its found
my joy's a memory.
Once in every seven nights
to a magic place I go,
a garden enchanted by faerie sprites,
where festive flowers grow.
Brownies and pixies dance and sing,
mischief sparkling in their eyes.
One comes to expect nearly anything,
yet is constantly surprised.
The fruit that grows there is alluring and ripe,
and so beautiful to see;
but I dare not take a bite,
it is forbidden to me.
All too soon I must depart,
it seems I’ve just arrived.
Its just as well, my tortured heart
can only whet its appetite.
In a cool and calming place,
in the teeming green of spring's full bloom,
flowers of every shape and hue,
bedeck the garden walls.
Succulent fruit on hanging vines,
brings the intoxicating pleasure of wine.
Here my yearning, thirsty soul,
drinks its fill to serene delight.
A peaceful warmth,
like luxurious sunshine,
steals over my deepest heart,
and stills the raging storm.
This gentle, loving place,
softly echoing joyful laughter,
is the true reflection
of radiant Aphrodite
aka Taliesn Flynn
Jeffrey Stultz's Other Poems
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