Garden memory

I do know that
I had long wandered
the garden
enjoying the views.
taking note of the
many precious blooms.
There was more than enough
to keep one walking,
satisfied and
more than curious.
Till you showed up
one day on a path
I had not taken before.

You were the prettiest
and brightest
of all the flowers then.
It was here that I
wanted to linger
and savour your
remarkable beauty
with a Keatsian
composing poems
to you, your best.
Who could have thought
that gardens brought
such joy and freedom
and might stir
immortal lines
and images to
your soul and spirit?

Today your flower
fades or blooms
in other parts of
the garden.
I stand elsewhere–
by the water perhaps,
and recall what it meant
to be that close,
that certain in
our very special once.

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