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I grew up amongst every kind of plant and flower,
Beyond our gate was the garden of dear mother;
This Eden was colourful, tangled and so sensational,
So erratic, untamed and just totally unmanageable.
Mother knew the Latin names of each blooming posy,
The iris, lily, rose, aster, dahlia, marigold and peony;
I really loved the purple larkspur and pink gardenia,
Mother said she loved them all but adored camellia.
Brightly painted butterflies danced and glided happily,
And the nesting birds all sang their songs so loudly;
We had an old swing and we would sit and sip tea,
In the shade of the trees, just my mother and me.
O to turn back the clock of time, moving and clicking,
To be in my mother's garden again, a child dreaming.
July 2, 2014
Copyright Protected, ID 14- 580-302-0
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
Mid August Standard Contest
Any Poem Under 15 Lines
A Poet Destroyer
Copyright © Constance La France | Year Posted 2014
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