IN THE GARDEN OF LOVE

IN THE GARDEN OF LOVE Here, where roses grow, both tended and wild This secret garden that so few people do know Each flower is a stem intertwined with another Such that they both rise, perhaps fall, together Yet even though towards the sunlight they go They can also relish darkness and be reconciled Their petals may be different hues and shades Yet to them, that is of such little consequence A symbol of love, a marriage of white and red Despite what a casual gardener may have said They’ll share everything, including their scents For long after the Spring’s green growth fades