Poetry Here (Mostly)

Writes of Spring


Mint, rosemary, and lemon
enhance my garden’s breeze
Roses bloom again this year,
lovely each variety.

Ladybugs, budding trees,
birds, and birds of paradise,
pomegranate’s red flowered,
tomato seeds growing fast.

Usual sky, blue and bright,
puffed clouds silent and sailing.
Such a day that’s come and gone,
once or twice I stepped outside.

This poem blew in, took root,
but weak, it does not dig deep,
unlike the garden that grows
with strong creative purpose.

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