Sonnet: The garden you dreamt of

Written with an empty mind, a doodle of one kind.

A garden full of roses, and devoid of winter,

Where music rouses, allowing one's mind to wander.

Curious and with an empty mind, you enter,

Like a droplet into the pond, of growing fever.

Timid, but over time, the feeling grows,

That excitement, so unadulterated and so pure.

The nature of miracles never grows bored, nor old,

For that enticement is one toxic, without cure.

A garden without chairs and only tables,

With all the sights to chase and to see.

These scenes are not unlike those in fables,

Those that had you abandoned reality, and me.

So chase your fantasy, but chase it away,

So you would remember our promise, to fulfill our day.

- Leon / Stu. T.H. (April 3, 2024)

Author's Note

--Is without me.

Reviews

[June bug]

I love sonnets, I envy those who can write them.

"A garden without chairs and only tables,
With all the sights to chase and to see.
These scenes are not unlike those in fables,"

I feel sadness in this part as a bit of heart tugging. Splendid Sonnet

[Stu. T.H.]

Thank you for your kind words, author June bug.
I also wholly believe a writer of your interests and talents are capable of writing a sonnet worth reading even more so than I do. And please, if you ever decide to write one, please send this account a read request, I'd be more than gladly to read it.