A blur of color in the wind
Fertile soil as nature’s palette
A fragrance so seductive we think of sin
A gardener’s work must begin
Work the soil before he sees
A blur of color in the wind
Damp earth the gardener’s canvas
Spring warmth brings the seed to sprout
A fragrance so seductive we think of sin
A fiery sun nurtures the seed to begin
Emerald leaves open to feed and bring
A blur of colour in the wind
A palace of wild beauty within
The gardeners reward of toil is
A fragrance so seductive we think of sin
And within this plot of raging color
The worker’s castle for months to stay
A blur of color in the wind
A fragrance so seductive we think of sin.
By Wayne Jarus
1 comment:
The day to celebrate poetry is coming soon... Have a nice day, dear Ant Célia!
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