The Gardener
His Gentle hands are like silk
that wrap around in a protective grip
providing reason for these roses not to wilt
gentle words of abundance grace his lip
if only that was all this garden needs
but he still makes the flowers grow
nurishing the ever changing seeds
through his aura's warms and gentle glow
brown curls that blow with grace in the winds
the ever golden gleam in his eye
in this garden of blue roses, most of his time he spends
always honest, he could not lie
for these simple aqua roses are his pride
watching over them with his playful grin
only once to us flowers has he cried
being brash & a bit dim as his only sin
we will always love him
until the very end.
His Gentle hands are like silk
that wrap around in a protective grip
providing reason for these roses not to wilt
gentle words of abundance grace his lip
if only that was all this garden needs
but he still makes the flowers grow
nurishing the ever changing seeds
through his aura's warms and gentle glow
brown curls that blow with grace in the winds
the ever golden gleam in his eye
in this garden of blue roses, most of his time he spends
always honest, he could not lie
for these simple aqua roses are his pride
watching over them with his playful grin
only once to us flowers has he cried
being brash & a bit dim as his only sin
we will always love him
until the very end.
