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 life's frenzied pace.

- Dan Turner 11/3/00

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