“Oh, the Garden!” – a sonnet

My garden, oh, how you can bring surprise
As I explore, new blooms attract my eyes.

Buds peek among the weed and grasses wild
And bring delight – as if I were a child.

Among the ivy growing down the wall
See – pushing through – a lone red rose grows tall

Amid the over-grown old lavender
There strive small clumps, as Spring’s bulb leaves appear.

Oh,  pass the clippers. Let me prune and trim                     sonnet Oh the Garden
And shape the bushes; let the sunlight in.

Let’s pull the weeds, trim branches dead and black
And let the garden’s flowers and blooms spring back.

Now place a sturdy seat of polished stone
So friends may sit entranced, as on a throne.

 


[seven couplets, iambic pentameter]
© Lynne  McAnulty-Street, Rotorua NZ, 2011

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