The Garden

For years I have wandered through the garden of life.
I have toiled through torment and torturous strife.
After cutting down weeds and chasing the crows,
The garden at last delivered a rose.

I inhale- I exhale. Water fills his stem.
Each year he thanks me by blooming again.
I love his beauty, yet I can't ignore his thorns.
Strangely enough, I love them even more.

I will never pluck his spirit and allow him to wilt.
He will grow wild and free, on this soil that we built.
I can not bring him with me, he only dances in the light
Instead I will be buried in his roots every night

Reviews

[Coyote Poetry]

I enjoyed how you made the poem have great meaning. Your words, understandable and kind. A perfect closing to the outstanding poetry dear Rosie.
Coyote

[Rosie Brooklin]

Thank you so much! I always love your input ❤️

[Coyote Poetry]

You are welcome dear Rosie.

[wordman]

lovely metaphors on love and life

[Chris Shaw]

May your rose grow ever more delightful. Nicely penned.

Chris

[Dave Brown]

and with no weeding to do
the perfect garden