The gardeners dream

I keep myself busy
weeding out the ways
seeking for the heartship
of my soul,
I till the soil
and mend the rows
plucking out all the jade,
but the harmony is not found
in these glorious sunny days.

So again I am on bended knee
mulling through the dirt
removing unwanted growth
tenderly nurturing
caring and trimming
showering with adoration,
hoping soon
very soon.

Then the spring brings her fluid smile
blanketing all the buds
and each in turn will blossom
filling my garden with many hugs,
and there I sit among the colors
awaiting for one to tug
the one that will wax my heart
that one who will give me love.

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