Rose Garden Poem by S.W. Clark

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
The fragrance of sweet fertility
dazzled from the blossomed pantry of flora.
The scene was saturated with sensual stimulation.
To see, to hear, to touch, to taste and, ahhh, to smell.
And all creation gathered to this banquet of admiration.
While the creator relaxes,
lies back,
and enjoys
the splendor
of
her fantasy.
In
the
dwelling
where
dreams
came
true;
where life
and love
embrace as one.
and miracles
are never ceasing.
As dyed puffed delights danced atop their thorny stems.
The Sun beams down its radiant light for the worshipful hands and
dew drops are spread around the thirsty legs. That this place be Heaven
is a mystery only to those without, and all else be Hell to those privileged to be within.