She builds her pleasant garden
Where the winds are not so strong
The sun sometimes relenting
Becomes her companion
The garden spreads its arms to her
Thick shoulders, fragile hands
The creepers and the vines that bear
Her flowers from many lands
There is shade upon her shadow
And a path of leaves and stones
That were inlaid imperceptibly
Through years of life alone
There's a trickle of river water
Breaking on a precipice
An ornately painted corner
Where she sees the light of bliss
Papaya trees and lemon trees
That the hurricanes forgot
The garden is her mirror
It reflects her, then does not
Wind chimes in the moonlight
Songbirds awake till dawn
She cultivates the seasons,
Leaves the garden to be born.
Absolutely sensational dear, I enjoyed this piece very much. I very much agree with Onelia that it reminds me of Britain. I love the low-key rhymes and the words you have put together in a unique way to make those rhymes. Thank you for sharing.
A very romantic one - reminds me the unique British gardens. They are pieces of art, like this lvely poem.
Your garden entices. Your poem sounds like a tribute to the garden's source. Mysterious.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem
Poignant, wistful, beautiful.