Under the stars
lost in my garden
I forgot all my errands
and potted about
Pruning my roses
Uprighting my frogs
They all smile you know
My dad called one Bob
He lives in the soil
Beside a peace Lily
Atop of a memorial
I made just for Dad
Right next to the one
Made just for my brother
A superhero on that one
He was always my hero
My garden needs keeping
So I potter about
Make it all nice
I think ‘well that’s better’
Sometimes I forget
And then it comes back
And suddenly without notice
And dirt under my nails
I cry all my tears out
Like a watering can
How can I think that it’s better
To have it all cleared up nice,
Pruned back and flowering?
It really would be better-
So much better I tell you
If they were just here
Having tea in my garden.
My dad and my brother
The three musketeers.
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THANKYou for reading 🕊️
About the Creator
VJHD
The subsistence of our lives will live on in our words, forever encapsulating our feelings.
Words are the centre point of our existence. If we never write anything down, did we ever really exist at all?
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