Tuesday, November 29, 2005

No garden is without its rain.
Every arbor sees a storm.
But none weather dark days so well,
No other remains this strong and warm…

Branches lean sturdy overhead.
Green-clad fingers secure the sky.
Sweet professions spill in plum-colored petals
…This is my eden, you and I.

1 Comments:

Blogger Anonymous Poet said...

My eden, you and I. Wonderful!

11:10 PM  

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