Where souls are created.

Poem inspired from a photo prompt, courtesy of David Palmer which can be discovered over on g+ right here in this super amazing poetry forum.

 

https://plus.google.com/+DavidPalmer816/posts/7B2WVj3ag6r

Every garden should be filed with tulips,

of every colour

with daffodils and daisies

and dandelion wishes along the end row.

Every garden should be filled with scented

roses of pink, yellow, glorious red and delightful

peach. There should be flower pots, welly boots,

rakes and old broken treasures.

For it is here in the garden that we are created.

It is here  beneath the  autumn leaves that the

young artist discovers colour and texture.

In springs fresh blossoms the young poet discovers

metamorphosis as the butterfly dances past.

It is here as the summer sun rises into the skies

that the musician sings the tune of the whistling

morning bird for the very first time.

And among the death of winter the writer rises

creating an escape of warmth and adventure as

Amazons and Swallows are relived.

And in every broken treasure is born the historian

hungry for knowledge and the engineer who see’s

life in the broken. And the crafter who see’s what can be

not what is as the future scientists mix water and scented

rose petals.

Every garden should be filled with tulips of every colour

and old broken wagon wheels, for it is here in the garden

that souls are born and spirits created and

children become their futures.

 

Karen Hayward ©2016