A Secret Garden

There was green everywhere. Bright, vibrant, alive. So much of my favorite color in one place calmed me instantly, like a balm on my heart and spirit. Enclosed by high crumbling coquina walls tangled with lacy ivy, and sun-bleached wooden fencing speckled with moss, the garden welcomed me, enclosing me in loving arms. Welcome Dear One. Welcome. Come in. Breathe. Heal.

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I took a deep breath, lost in wonderment and unexpected joy. How long had this place been here, hidden in plain sight just off the beaten track? How often had I passed by it and never seen it, never known it existed? Yet the timing was sheet magic. I needed this. I needed this place. The beauty. The peace. The healing. A secret garden of my very own. It was like the one in my dream from so many years ago — not a perfect match, but something in it spoke to me and I grinned at the unexpected connection to my characters revealed to me in that dream, their beautiful story, and the butterfly garden they shared.

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Everywhere I turned something unexpected caught my eye: mermaids, fairies, butterflies, orbs spread haphazard, wild and free, spinning, twirling, dancing in the gentle breeze, sheltered in the shade of ancient trees and warmed by the strong Florida sun. Colors in rich profusion sprouted up amidst the greenery, adorning the Earth most beautifully: blues, reds, bronzes, greens, purples, violets, and clear crystalline white.

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Thank you. My whisper repeated itself in my mind over and over again as I walked the uneven cobblestone pathway, finding more beauty and hidden treasures behind each twist and turn. I felt giddy, light-hearted — it was just like a scene from The Secret Garden or Harriet The Spy!  (I’ve always loved the gardens from these movies.) Benches awaited me, knowing well I’d have to return one day with a notebook and pen sometime soon, and a table lay tucked away, for the future lunch I’d bring to eat amongst the fairies.

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I called silently to the trees and flowers, to the fairies tending them, and the wonderful life-force encapsulating this tiny place: Thank you for this. You’re beautiful. Hello! I thanked them for inviting me into their domain to appreciate their lush, wild beauty. The wind tugged at me, playful and free, pulling me this way and that. Look here! Notice this! I happily obeyed — there is no resisting the lure of happy fairies, especially those dwelling in a secret garden. There was so much to see!

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Butterflies danced, fairies sang, and my heart soared.

Thank you. Thank you.

I’ll come back soon.

I promise.

 

A Rose Bound

Image From Google. All Rights Belong To Artist.

Image From Google. All Rights Belong To Artist.

A Rose Bound

In the labyrinth there’s a castle,

where a bed of roses lie,

thick and bright and color-strewn,

arching turrets to the sky.

***

I see you there, in my sleeping mind,

a shadow in the brightest light,

cloaked in crimson, rich as blood,

beckoning me in from coming night.

***

Come to me, come to me,

your voice echoes low on the wind,

come to me, come to  me,

to our story now, we must tend.

***

Come to me, run to me,

gasping, my heart begins to pound,

come to me, find love with me,

become the rose to which I’m bound.

Rose Of Glory, Rose Of Grace

Here’s another poem of mine from Serendipity!

Rose :

Rose of glory, Rose of grace,

with petals of velvet, stem of lace.

Haloed soundly by molten fire,

rest you upon yon gate a-higher.

Reaching, yearning, for the Sun above,

none but love can quench such love.

Golden shafts drenched in seamless light,

red passion blooms in all its might.

Nature’s bounty thus link to link ornate,

binding Rose to Sun by love and fate.

Life and light swing hand and hand,

should one to fall, the other would not stand.

Tragic though is every lovers’ demise,

torn apart is the ground from skies.

Burning Sun is ripped from tender Rose,

and cold, dark night brings life and love to a-close.

One by one velvet petals drop,

no beams or rays to ease their bitter stop.

Rose of glory, Rose of grace,

with petals of velvet, stem of lace.

Haloed soundly by molten fire,

rest you upon yon gate a-higher.

Reaching, yearning, for the Sun above,

none but love can quench such love.

Image From Google

Image From Google