Elegy of the Gardens

Remember the light-laden morning you woke

to find that, to you, the daisies truthfully spoke

and the marigolds, toward you, amongst rivulets spun

for you shrouded yourself with the gold of the sun.

The lupine shook hands, greeting with eerie smile

and the cattails convened, deciding you worthwhile

whilst you promised false harvest of their unsavory fruit,

rendering their worries for winter minute.

The lady slipper orchids permitted temporary wear

and the poppies accepted your humid affair,

though magnolias squinted their thick-lashed, white eyes

as the lavender hanged at the window did dry.

The peonies sang a song of wither and strain

as the irises quivered with lack of rain

and the naive sweet peas thought you were crying

when salt kissed the soil and flowers were dying.

The gardenias stuttered and held their last breath

and the bleeding heart bled wilting closer to death;

sometimes, at night, they whisper snarls of upset:

"Remember you are the reason we live to forget."