She builds her pleasant garden <br />Where the winds are not so strong <br />The sun sometimes relenting <br />Becomes her companion <br /> <br />The garden spreads its arms to her <br />Thick shoulders, fragile hands <br />The creepers and the vines that bear <br />Her flowers from many lands <br /> <br />There is shade upon her shadow <br />And a path of leaves and stones <br />That were inlaid imperceptibly <br />Through years of life alone <br /> <br />There's a trickle of river water <br />Breaking on a precipice <br />An ornately painted corner <br />Where she sees the light of bliss <br /> <br />Papaya trees and lemon trees <br />That the hurricanes forgot <br />The garden is her mirror <br />It reflects her, then does not <br /> <br />Wind chimes in the moonlight <br />Songbirds awake till dawn <br />She cultivates the seasons, <br />Leaves the garden to be born.<br /><br />Frank Bana<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-song-of-her-garden/
