I was in my backyard sunning, while lost in warm daydreams,
Enjoying red raspberries, while listening to the birds sing.
Lying on afternoon chaise, in the golden midst of hot July,
As I watched mauve butterflies, and lazy dragonflies go by.
Charmed by the bluest of skies, and the fragranced fresh air,
I felt that surely, there was not a better place anywhere!
The flowers were so lovely, and the grass was so deep green,
......
Although I had always adored flowers, I had never had a green thumb;
And while I tried awfully hard, my efforts always had sorry outcomes.
Like the sorrow of old garden roses, during the unanticipated drought,
Or storms that send you fleeing homewards, with trepidation and doubt.
It is irony that my name is Jasmine, for I'd always wanted a garden,
As warm meadows dream of riotous blooms, where blooms have not been!
And how I envied the lucky ones, nurturing blossoms so effortlessly,
......
I was once something of a pessimist, and that fact did not concern me,
As violet birds are content, to spend their nights in different trees.
Still I had a happy and quiet existence, or at least I thought I did,
Like a moon glimmering all her tranquil life, when reddish sun is hid!
My attitude didn't come from bitterness, I just had an analytical mind;
And like bees searching for nectar, needed all the proof I could find.
But I totally missed the fact, that looking to tomorrow requires faith,
......
I was reclining upon soft pillows, in my spacious window seat,
Savoring pretty views and sunshine, while I nibbled on a treat.
Alternately I read my novel, and gazed on the tranquil scene,
As one gazes at blue sky clouds, to ponder why they're cream!
Though content in this moment, lately I'd been feeling bored-
That my life was so unexciting, no adventure would be untoward.
Perhaps I needed a vacation, to observe new places and things,
......
I had for long been an arborist, enthusiastically caring for the trees,
Like a grasshopper immersed in a green world, is glad for all he sees.
I had always loved nature, having begun gardening when I was a child,
As bluebirds rise up singing very early, in tangled precincts so wild.
It was foreseeable that this passion, would emerge as my life's work,
As an artist might strive for years, creating a masterpiece artwork!
I was also familiar with various birds, as a result of this vocation,
......
Life of an underground lyrical beast looking great
But one can imagine attempting to get the sure rate
To succeed, one's got to really hustle
And, yes, Life is pregnant with some kind of bustle!
Striving makes us great
But, How'd I get there, mate?
Nonstop hustle is, I trust, the sure key
But, first for God, I've got to be on my knee
If not both!
......
Amaryllises fill the flower lover's small, white cottage,
In pinks, apricots and burgundy, near summer's edge.
A rich harvest of bliss, in every hue comes drifting down,
Painting the wilderness all colors, in nature's playground!
Sweet sun is setting scarlet as red fruit on high,
In a sizzling beauteous exit-apple pie in the sky!
We are caught up in the middle, of our passionate love affair,
In a world still so young, sweet dreams can blossom anywhere!