Ours is a private, secret garden one that
cannot be seen from the street in front of our
home, our very own Eden, unapproachable
by none other than ourselves. We have two
guard dogs deputized to ensure that no one
enters this place that so delights us with its
dazzling display of brightly coloured flowers
trees and shrubs that we ourselves planted so
long ago. Our guards may not appear ferocious
two toy poodles but they take their position quite
seriously entrusted with the incomparable
treasure that is our garden, they the wardens of
all growing matter of nature's devising and their
barks and growls of displeasure directed toward
any who might presume to test their professional
qualifications are soon put to rest. For this is
their garden too their intimate hideaway that
invests them as guardians, a position zealously
defended. And at those times when we have
behaved particularly well, they will relent and
relax their stewardship, permitting us passage.
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