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In This Garden

In gardens where shy violets are found,
where dainty pansy faces nod and wink,
hark, snatch a glimpse but do not make a sound;
for dwell some kindred spirits here, I think.
This older style of floral preference
takes notice of sweet perfumes here produced,
not needing clever garden sites as reference
to tell one how aroma's introduced.
Those bulbs like Mamma planted prior to Spring,
the creamy freesia, hyacinth bright blue,
heaven scented gifts from God above they bring
such fragrance as it's sure the gardener knew.
Pansy faces, where they nod, they blink and smile
so immerse yourself in heaven for a while.

By cherryk

© 2018 cherryk (All rights reserved)


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This Poem is part of a Challenge: Anything Goes - with whiskurz (Larry)--read page for rules and info (challenge has been closed)

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