The Garden
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And in my dream- I am in a garden,
with many winding paths and flowers bright;
in the shadow of leaves a bird takes flight,
my dress is pink and my lips are crimson;
and my heart and soul are ever broken.
Sweet is the flutter of rainbow butterflies,
so pretty the purple asters and red roses;
a sweet, lazy yellow pansy quietly dozes,
through a green canopy are blue skies;
oh, I've sent my love letters with no replies.
The roaring and splashing of a waterfall,
a dripping that never ever stops;
I sink to a stone with falling teardrops,
a letter in my hand does a slow fall;
we regret to . . . I feel empty and small.
_______________________
January 20, 2018
Poetry/Rhyme/The Garden
Copyright Protected, ID 18-9837-90-01
All Rights Reserved. Written Under Pseudonym.
Copyright © Constance La France | Year Posted 2018
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