Garden of My Dreams

How many years did I plant dig and dig up again and silently rant where a flower placed here, should be moved from here to there at first, not well planning where this one or that one should go, then look back, finally, lining up the perfect garden flow. The pathway twists and winds behind the trees, along the well-edged vines where honeysuckle rises, clings, and climbs, after twenty care taken time the flowers bloom gracefully well and fine, sublime just outside the opened door, each one more beautiful than the one before. Spring greeted painted croci, hyacinths, mounded daffodils in flight yellows, purples, peaches, orange, and ivory clustered delights where clumped marsh daisies spread and evoked wild mustard glow with lavender henbit, wild violets unprovoked from weeded plants successfully uncloaked the garden of my dream scheme each one's beauty uniquely reveals a theme. In the more gentile light, the sun provided the preplanned layout was actually well united where bearded irises staged with tall and short dispersed colors lapping at the breezes, peach jam ruffled blushings unlike any other rusted blends, bright yellows, blues, purple raven blends flutter each majestic while beneath the warm sun they blend having found their spot embracing light around the bend. Now nearing the end of a warm enticing month of May peonies bulge, buds, blossom pink bouquets, huge cherry red displays where perfumes waft and call out to the butterflies and bees every flower causing an allergic someone passing by to sneeze but who can resist the magical mystery of flowerings released waving, dancing, frolicking beneath the sun how far the garden growth has finally come. Nearing the start of June the roses rise to greet the fullest red blood moon, hybrid white teas in touch with crimson floribunda collections pale pink blush tranquil dazzlers, iceberg lavender-blue deflections everyone a petal cultivated to perfection each and everyone finding its place in the sun - I could never choose just one.