I strolled in the fairy garden
Felt the air, the magical tree
Each intricate space of my garden
Tells of the plumes each line meets
My beautiful tapestry, covers years
A patchwork of stories and memories
They fill my life with laughter beyond measures
I keep my heart open , more adventures
I feel the songs as the each sunrise
They peak the new beginning of my blooming garden
My tree of hope healing
Our garden got hit badly by a hard freeze that was unexpected. So, much of the paradise is lost until summer allows us to replant as we furnish our delights.
But I sense yours is imaginary and can flower as long as your mind wants it to.
I have taken pride in writing this novel as so many people have the wrong impression on bikers because they dress in leather clothing which is to protect themselves in case of an accident. The majority of bikers are known Policemen, Firemen, Doctors,
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But I sense yours is imaginary and can flower as long as your mind wants it to.
Ron
Love ya!
Jane