AmyMichelleMosier Posted June 29 Share Posted June 29 Come and find me in this garden; I know not where the hours go. Palm fronds brush against my cheek – Lone toadstool, blush of mallow. They say this is the Garden of Eden – Rocks of lichen, red yucca. But I think this is probably heaven – Birds-of-paradise and vinca. You will find here a green shelter; Shade fills the inner sanctuary. Canaries whistle o'er yonder – Dew drops on a banana leaf. Let's be as kids like we once were; Take my hand, let's go find its end. Make a wish on a four-leaf clover – White passion vine, black-eyed Susan. Heaven can wait if we persevere. Let my bosom be your headrest. Morning glories open to the day; Sure feels like we're heaven-blessed. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
David W. Parsley Posted June 29 Share Posted June 29 Amy, thank you for another brush with serenity. That headrest feels comfortingly intimate. One critique: phrases like "I think", "let's go", "Make a wish", "Sure feels like", etc. lend a welcome tone of contemporary parlance; "I know not where" and "o'er yonder" introduce jarring anachronisms and contrived inversions that make the language feel forced, rather than natural. Thanks, - David Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
AmyMichelleMosier Posted June 29 Author Share Posted June 29 Thank you, sir! Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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