Garden Poem by Monique Martin

Once, I was a dancer in the garden
And going back to be is a dream that comes
When the fragrance of musk and sweat,
The hands stroking my skin, reminds me of what came before:
Birds singing
Leaves rustling with the wind
The sky an ocean blue as the sun’s rays glide across the open field.
I’d like to escape for awhile-
MP3 player, a pen and paper my only company-
And return when the raindrops no longer fall and the sky isn’t a deep shade of purple.
Understand I’m not looking for validation or forcing anyone’s hand,
But it’s the tears burning my face and the echo of false promises I’m hoping to leave behind.
Understand my need to be alone until the light is golden, the breeze is gentle,
And velvet notes grace my ears.
I’d like to go by dancing in the garden
Feeling the lush grass beneath my bare feet,
Inhaling lilies, jasmine, and a hint of Calvin Klein
As his touch guides me toward a place for just us two
Where we can come and go.
There are worse things to be than dancers in the garden.