She Asked Me To Write About Solitude - Poem by Leah Ayliffe
There is a garden hard to find
Very few can reach it
Some like to call it divine
Or maybe an escape from anything too real.
Wild flowers grow
and the scent from their oils unleash a calming peace over her restless mind
when she finally walks barefoot
to the old worldly stone bench
It's always waiting
Like a grey day that brings you happiness
because you're sick of the sunshine
It's so gorgeous
When the pond is still and all she see's
are dragonflies and butterflies
She wanders to her garden often
and thinks how lucky she must be to have such a place
for her dreams to bleed.
Sometimes, when she's back in the world,
she looks upon the faces of others
and prays that they too
have found love in Solitude.
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Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You