I stand in a garden of pretty things, all of which have bloomed
Though I wish to hear the sounds of Spring, I fear I’m out of tune
I fold in on myself one layer after another and then
Develop some thorns just in case one day I should need them
I know my defenses aren't warranted; every effort is simply a waste
Stubborn I am, but in my gardener’s hands and heart I have been placed
He does not deserve the trouble I cause, for he’s always been open with me
But daily my petals are coaxed to relax by his touch and I can breathe
I don’t know what I've done to deserve this precious place in his garden
But season after season he still picks me and my love’s in full bloom regardless
Wow superb how u draw the analogy btw a garden and love. An engaging poem. So nice to read u again.
This is a gorgeous poem - I love the imagery, and the relationship with the gardener.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
building up a defense and yet realizing the inadequacy of it- brilliant!