Mrs. Hershey's Garden

In her garden, with the humid scent of every rose looking over amusement's risk and welcoming desire I wish to find myself with you. Singing shoulders, with your hand upon me in the sun breaking peace like bread at lunch with butterflies and water sprays springing up in smiles. Cat tails blowing, laying down to kiss the ground with sweet nasturtium on their lips in red and coral yellow while we open our eyes wider. In her garden, with the herbs she seldom trampled sneaking shade amongst the trees while rabbit eyes alert the world to paradise discovered. In her garden.