GARDEN....
There are many poems in my garden, just waiting to be picked. All that's needed is a bit of time, and patience if you're pricked. To stroll among the verses. Smell the sweet bouquet. Every now and then a word to pick. Life is truly good, on a garden day. For hidden among the roses, tiger lilies, and the columbine are the treasured emotions of a better time. This is my promised land. Brings warm smiles to my face. Fills my heart with lasting contentment. My soul breathes deeply, in this special place. For all a poem garden needs is a touch of water, and a little feed. With a little thought, and a bit of care, it will surely outgrow the most ambitious weed. I'll tell you now I hate to leave this place. To return to the stark reality of li