Grandma's Maze
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My Grandma oft planted a floral maze,
complete with twisting paths and dead-end trails.
She’d buy garden gnomes at local yard-sales,
setting scenes you rarely see nowadays.
She'd design a puzzle meant to amaze,
a lost art that was found in the details.
She sculpted a sinuous ivy wall
so, I'd be constantly turning around
feeling trapped at times, and yet, still spellbound.
And the smell was heaven, as I recall,
lasting until the first frost of the fall
when the leaves turned color and life shutdown.
I found inner peace at the maze’s core,
and couldn't have asked for anything more.
(Verse)
06/23/2020
Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2020
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