Thistle Down

By Ethel

My Garden

I walk along my garden,
Where lovely flowers grow.
With color variations,
I glance from row to row.

The arbor filled with roses,
Is mere tranquility.
An array of dew-drenched petals,
Are there for me to see.

The perfume of the lilacs,
Upward to me rise.
I breathe my breath so deeply,
And slowly close my eyes.

The pansies are a happy-lot,
In ways that do entreat.
Like children dancing round me,
With faces soft and sweet.

T'is there among the blossoms,
Some memories...I must share.
Remembering long years ago,
The hands that put them there.

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Yes...the hands that put them there...so today in love...I share...blossoms rich and bright, and rare...because of them.

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