My Garden Of Words Poem by Benjamin Chiu Uy

My Garden Of Words

In any written shapes or sounds,
My garden will be decked with elegant words and flowers,
Let wit multiplies, breed like cats and dogs,
And honor me a tongue.

I would be a fake or merely pretencious
Bequeath me my kingly allowances,
Or terse and blinding rhetorics like the bleeding of the words, from the thrush of the swords

I will color the sky,
Change tints of a morning dew with the color of the midnight blues,
Or wrangled myself into your crowds,
Reminding you of your souls,

We will be in closed proximities,
Like intimate lovers in a tryst,
Flambouyant at the tragic world,
And throw our flaunting jokes,

Or crying like tragic friends and relatives,
With symbolic offerings of flowers and litting of the candles.
On the fallen corpses after the brutal carnage.

My gardens of frushia summers and midnight orchids on my solitary strolls.

Posterities will let these written words,
Minted with its true value,
If not honor me with a look,
And discover the flaws.