The Garden

In the garden of my mind,
There grow flowers of every kind.
They bloom in all shades and hues
Mirroring my emotions and moods.

The Cockscomb, with its brilliant red
Screams of passion and excitement.
But as it stretches out in excess,
It brings anger and is dangerous.

And the dainty yellow Billy Buttons
Spread joy, warmth, and optimism.
But every so often, their color leads
To feelings of worry and anxiety.

A patch of Himalayan blue poppies
Gives root to loyalty and peace,
But at times, as they overgrow,
Loneliness and cold take their hold.

And the purple Lily of the Nile
Births ideas of the creative type.
Whereas the bright orange Lion’s Tail,
Spawns enthusiasm and friendliness.

There’re also the pink Anemones
They show playfulness and innocence.
And the White Egret Orchid is so elegant
As it exudes purity and truthfulness.

As a companion to all of these,
Abound leaves in shades of green.
Signaling growth and harmony,
They’re also the harbinger of envy.

The Black Bat Flower also survives.
In a secluded corner, it thrives.
Shrouded with powers and mysteries,
It can heighten sadness and fears.

In another spot is Miss Willmott’s Ghost
With its pale grey blossoms
Flourishing with authority and dignity,
Along with those, boredom, it breeds.

You’d say my garden is a pretty one
With every color under the Sun.
But I, and only I have come to know –
That which I heed to is that which will grow.

A Wish for You

If there was one wish
That I could wish for you,

It would be for you to see the moon
As not just a rock, lifeless and cold,
But smiling with the light of love at you.

To hear the wind in the trees
As not just a rustling,
But playing a melodious symphony.

To see flowers in the meadow
As not just a splash of colors,
But saying hello as they bob to and fro.

To see the grass in the fields
As not just a scattering,
But doing the flamenco in the breeze.

To hear the birds chirp away
As not just a cacophony,
But singing all they want to say.

To not look at things just as they are,
But find a deeper meaning in them,
So that the awed child in your heart
Connects to all that Nature brings.

Flowers

When I was a little girl
I loved plucking the flowers
Growing on the side of the road.
Drawn by their fragrance and colors,
And their soft petals and buds,
I loved crushing them with my fingers.

When I became a teenager,
I was enamored by the flowers
That I received as gifts in bouquets.
I would put them in books and papers
Leaving them to dry between the pages
And marvel at how beautiful they were.

When I grew into a woman,
I was mesmerized by the flowers
That were woven into garlands.
I would wear them in my hair.
The air would bear their fragrance.
I felt it enhanced my beauty for hours.

In the autumn of my life,
I am reminded by the flowers
Of the moments of bygone times.
Yet, I don’t pluck, crush, dry them in papers
Or for beauty, yearn for their sacrifice.
I’m just happy when they bloom…in bowers.

Love, Naturally

Would I be wrong if I say
Nature’s nature is to nurture?

The mountains that, in the sky, tower,
In their strength, resemble my father.

And the oceans with their waves
Soothe just like my mother’s lullabies.

But what about that emotion called love?
Was that overlooked by Nature?

The answer to that is “no,” my friends.
For love, she has a special expression.

On all her creations, her love she showers
With the beauteous, colorful flowers.

With shades of red, the winter’s roses
Boldly announce their passionate love

In the meadows, the spotless white lilies
Promise commitment and purity.

And the sky blue forget-me-nots
Speak of everlasting fidilelity and respect.

While the multi-hued carnations
Show their affection and admiration.

Of other blossoms, there are a multitude
That express their love so true.

Each with their own vocabulary,
Convey their feelings eloquently.

So, whenever you see these bloom
It’s Nature proclaiming, “I love you.”