Garden
it is a Victorian garden with winding paths
with a formal terrace and a conservatory
where exotic plants flourish
and urns of wisteria and roses tumble
and worn benches beckon for me to linger
on this day where the sky is a muted blue
but, I am absorbed and meander down paths
lost in my own world ...
a pearl necklace embraces my neck
and I touch it often with a smile
deep in the shadow of trees
a man is watching ...
then, he steps forward and calls softly
and I run to him
_____________
May 15, 2021
Poetry/Verse/garden
Copyright Protected, ID 05-1355-816-15
All Rights Reserved, 2021, Constance La France
Written for the Standard contest, All Yours (May 16)
sponsor, Brian Strand, Judged 05/16/2021
First Place
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