Written for a contest, a poem about walking in a garden |
| I walk down the garden path made of stone, And take in the beauty, enjoying being alone. I stop and smell the roses, inhaling their sweet scent, And wonder to my self, if I have ever been this content There are a few green trees in various places, And think I want some of these flowers in my vases. There are marigolds, tulips, geraniums, and daisies, White, red, blue, yellow, and pink in different phases. The grey clouds drifting above will soon drop their rain, And give water to replenish these plants again. Notes ▶︎ |