A Mended Garden

Sat, 01/04/2020 - 04:03 -- tjp

Maybe it was your eyes, 

Big and droopy, but also told stories of the wise. 

Or maybe it was just everything about you. 

How you fertilized and reaffirmed my dying thoughts.

My thoughts of how I wanted to spend the rest of my life. 

 

Maybe it was the long and loose coils that draped from your head,

Curls as yellow and pure as a head of corn.

Or maybe it was just me. 

Because I allowed myself to be perfectly hypnotized by a creature so elegant.

So elegant that I allowed it to revive my dead petals. 

 

Afterall, this magical seed was planted when you came home. 

Since then, the flower of desire has continued to blossom.

Each new root from your planted seed replenishes two times the amount of dead roses in my garden. 

 

Then, I knew.

It was your eyes.

It was also your curls.

It was all of the above!

It was each and every part of you that transpired my dreams.

 

Now, my garden is full of magical flowers named Desires. 

And I knew from your first bark,

Or maybe our first run in the dog park, 

That you have inspired me to allow another dogs’ life to have the same. 

The same delights. 

The same delicacies. 

The same pair of human hands that will work passionately, 

And work profusely to ensure that other dogs will have the same felicities. 

 

This poem is about: 
Me
My community
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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