They beckon me on as the day awakes.
The first hint of sun is all that it takes.
"Come out to the garden," they seem to say.
"There's so much to do on this glorious day."
They seem to have secrets, so I must go
Where they are laid out and the flowers grow,
Where birdsong is sweet and the morning dew
Sparkles and shines in a diamond hue.
I must see the roses out by the gate.
Spring has arrived and I just can't wait
To follow the whims of the stones out there
And sit in the garden without a care.
© 2002 Pam H. Murray
The first hint of sun is all that it takes.
"Come out to the garden," they seem to say.
"There's so much to do on this glorious day."
They seem to have secrets, so I must go
Where they are laid out and the flowers grow,
Where birdsong is sweet and the morning dew
Sparkles and shines in a diamond hue.
I must see the roses out by the gate.
Spring has arrived and I just can't wait
To follow the whims of the stones out there
And sit in the garden without a care.
© 2002 Pam H. Murray
May 7, 2002
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