I've Been Growing Some Words

Garden

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.

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