During daylight hours I nurse the illusion
that the garden I planted so lovingly
so long ago, is mine, though never loathe
to share it with hummingbirds and bees
toads and butterflies, mice and chipmunks
as they flit from flower to flower, the
very picture of a garden nourishing all
Earth's creatures. Robins and cardinals
feathered in the colours of the garden take
flight like sudden-winged blossoms and
their early-morning, dawn-greeting songs
pierce the new day's calm like the fragrance
of roses and lilacs wafting on the perfumed air.
In daylight hours when a cooling breeze
stirs the flowered tendrils of vines and the
sun kisses Morning Glories awake, trees
overhead cast their shade, a cooling haven.
The darkness of night reveals the presence of
sprites not otherwise seen, as tiny dancing
lights of bioluminescence take flight in a
magical display of nymph-like possession.
No comments:
Post a Comment