In the garden, beneath the arch
I heard your wistful voice
In the dancing wisteria
I knew it was your voice
Your gentle loving voice
Telling me to use an edger
Rather than the spade
Sunday afternoons were
Spent In the garden
Gardening at our leisure
Such memories I recall
Recall and treasure
Your gentle breathing
Is the springtime breeze
I touch the winding wind and
Listen to your wisdom
Life is not bricks and mortar
Live life don’t be a supporter
Leave the leaves to leave
Cultivate and flow with the flowers
Rose
Cryssa
The drifting essence of wisteria in a "Springtime Breeze"
gentle rhythm of this lovely poem.
Lady Mary Ann
Love ya!
Jane
Simply lovely....
Diana...
I felt so peaceful reading your poem. It has a very soothing affect on me.
Lovely work.
Peace love and light
Amber
Ron
Blessings,
Christine
Regis