In the Green Garden
In the green garden there's a young lady
She runs her slender fingers across the fresh lilies'
The suns soft light licking tenderly at her alabaster skin
Her flower dress flowing down her figure like the regal wings of a forest fairy
And her eyes sparkle with unfettered thought, the colour of faraway seas
Her bright blonde hair falls freely to her shoulders as she watches
the suns homeward stroll begin
In the green garden, there's a fair woman
Her delicate fingers grasp a bible, a golden ring glinting from the suns glare
The drawstrings of her apron dangle against her wicker chairs
Waves of fertile purple lavender flirt with flanks of crimson petunias, glistening in the sun
Written words swim in the waves of her blue eyes, absorbed with educated care
The sun dreamily dips and disappears, heralding the days end
In the green garden there's an old widow
She watches the naked tree branches shift and shiver in the moons glow
Her slightly shaking hands hold tight to her chest an embroidered pillow
Beside her, a small girl absentmindedly plays with the fresh, frosted moss below
Poking out from her thick woollen jacket, the frills of her flower dress are speckled with mud, as the wind blows
Through her flowing blonde hair, her eyes the colour of waters yet unknown
Copyright © Daniel Crawford-Lynch | Year Posted 2025
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