Lady Chatterlys Lover
I love my gardener
Not with passion or desire
The way he tends my garden
It is what sets my heart on fire
My soul takes wings,
As this young man tends the flowers
What takes him minutes
It would take me hours and hours
He chats with me and does all I ask,
Nothing for him,
Is too great a task.
He is respectful,
And very kind
He is an ambitious gardener,
A gem, a real find.
He comes every fortnight,
He is a work of art
I adore my young gardener,
Who brightens up my garden
And uplifts my ageing heart.
Copyright © Shirley Hawkins | Year Posted 2023
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