Lovely garden of life now overgrown with woody thorn bushes, <br />my mortal breath means nothing to you now. <br />You realized me when I was young and renounce me in my aging. <br />Overtaken by fields of goodbyes, the sustenance of my life <br />has left me alone now to wither with age and wrinkle without the waters of youth to revive me. <br />Although you try, you cannot thieve away the moss-covered dreams <br />of devilish delight that continue to gratify me. <br />The young hand that once picked my fate, now seals my doom <br />with its crooked fingers, pricked with bloody harshness. <br />Afford me a pause in my lifeless ends to preserve my <br />garden of memories in hopes that I may look upon them once more. <br />Where I go, I have not the assurance that I may view them <br />at will, and not seeing the felicitous visions of my memories <br />would be a fate of blackness that I could not bear. <br />My uncut roots will soon be severed <br />as the hour of my leaving is upon us, <br />but tarry with me for this moment in time with hopes that my <br />garden of memories may be preserved in my mind and the <br />love of live be carried away with me in my soul.<br /><br />Christine K. Trease<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/memory-garden/
