Perfect Gardens

A thing to be admired; the manicured garden
With rows and groupings aligned
Pinched and pruned and patterned and pampered
And perfectly designed
Where eye has been trained to root out any flaw
Marring its symmetry
A true work of art; a gardener’s hurrah
But devoid of poetry

I’ve seen the garden where feet have not trampled
And never a shears applied
Where blue strife and violet and ivy grow rampant
In ditches and forgotten hill-side
Where un-named brooks sparkle through verdant beauty
Where spring, summer, autumn pass
The garden blooms unhindered yet perfect
And free as the wind-blown grass

Far be it from me to discourage the gardener
Armed with the tools of our trade
I would not dream of stealing the pleasure
Of gardens created and made
So much potential and possibility
Lies in a portion of sod
But they will never hold the poetry
Of those gardens tended only by God

Janet~