I'm a writer, a poet, a dreamer. Born and raised in New York City. I now live in Daytona Beach, Florida. .
Behind the old creaky gate,
lay a garden no one knew.
it might have been long forgotten,
but the creatures that roamed there -
knew it well.
Dusty roses upon wilting vines,
still valiantly blooming,
as summers marched by.
Weeds and grasses,
a chock hold on flowers,
that still bloom in the springs.
Seasonal rains refresh it,
a lush green, quiet secret paradise.
The old faded bench,
just right for dreaming,
of the yesteryears of old –
when this garden bloomed fresh and new.
When in May,
the lilac tress would bloom,
lovers would stroll hand in hand,
later enjoying the scent of roses,
upon the summer breezes.
So seasons have come and gone,
the garden now untended,
yet, some magic remains,
in a secret garden from long forgotten days.
Perhaps a visit,
when the moon is full,
that might dance down these garden paths.
Where a tall old oak,
waiting for visitors,
to come swinging on the old wooden swing.
Whispers of days past,
blown along with the winds,
each day new tulips blossom,
but there is no one to care.
I know if I take a stroll there,
I will find you as in days of old,
with my hand once again in yours,
we’ll unlock the secrets,
that here are stored.
Secret garden -
memories of yesteryears.
© 2020 Gypsy Rose Lee