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My Garden
My garden once full of beauty,
Of wild roses and golden bells,
Where birds big and small are many,
Enjoy their catch in meals,
My garden once of scenting flowers,
Pulled the invisible trails of bees,
Cared of by nature's powers,
Abundance seemed not to cease,
Til one day came the crocs,
So voraciously they strucked
Nothing left there e'en a stalk,
The last of its substance sucked,
The crocs still there today,
Full yet unsatisfied,
The long long years of their stay,
None of us can take pride,
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