I’d like to be a garden.
My gates are rusty and they creak,
And yet they open with a gentle push
To those who seek to sneak a peak
At snapdragons and voodoo lilies
That bloom among the buttercups;
At bleeding hearts and morning glories
That blush as they are coming up.
And if, by chance, you venture down
my twisting and capricious tracks
please take the time and inspiration
To watch the grasshoppers relax.
Please don’t go past my fountain,
I know it’s not built to impress -
But in the sparkling, crystal water
There’s comfort there, nevertheless.
Should the the howling winds start shaking
My walls under the darkening skies
There’s shelter underneath the branches
Of weeping willows and their lullabies.
Birds come to dress me in their cheerful chatter
And make their home in my most secret parts,
And butterflies rehearse their dances
And want my weeds as payment for their art.
I am a vibrant maverick garden,
I’ve grown couragous, bold and strong.
The only days I fear are songless,
and by their very nature, long.