My Garden

My garden grows in colour
The wind, its petals blow -
Blending shades of all therein
Giving way to pleasures below.

The purples, pinks and oranges
Mid passive shades of green,
Combine in a chorus of colour
Creating a pastoral scene.

 

And when the rain falls gently
On each little sleepyhead.
They wake - shaking and stretching
Filling each flowerbed.

Under that cover of colour

The fairies come out to play.

They dash around the towering stems

And down where the roots lay.

 

Don't you think it's fun to believe?

Your garden becomes surreal.

Just welcome the possibilities

Soon, the happier you feel!

And who really knows

If it's not honestly true?

The fairies and the flowers believe

Why wouldn't you?

                                                               april