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."