Jan's Garden
This sweet gentle sonnet is for Janet.
In whose garden I've sat for the last hour.
There is no better place on the planet
to capture the grace and awesome power
of a person who thinks she has neither.
A silent orchestra of bright colors,
soloist and chorus of each species gather
in season from subtle to loud bellow,
in a silent sonata conducted
by a genius gardener spreading life
and beauty and love. Reward not expected
by our maistro except the relief
of life's burdens, a few ripe tomatoes,
appreciative children, any of those.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
