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The Flower of the Garden Gate

by Nina Spink


I grew flowers in my garden
Tending them with love and care
They grew beautiful and strong
Their fragrance filled the air

They were a joy to look on
Both inside and without
The sun displayed their beauty
The rain their scent would shout

My garden was a walled one
With safety held inside
No weeds or exotics ventured
To spoil or there reside

The sun shone and the rain fell
Each season throughout the year
Then one Summer warm and gentle
A new species did appear

Attracted by its fragility
Charmed by its beguiling shape
Its strange and vibrant colours
It adorned my garden gate

And this lovingly I tended
Its frail nature nurtured strong
Enticing birds and bees and beetles
My garden full with song

I grew to love its strangeness
Its raw yet heady perfume
Surprised at passions stirring
A most intoxicating bloom

I didn’t see its tendrils
Spread out to hold me fast
Mistook them for a friendship
Not heart’s sole deadly grasp

All Summer long I lingered
Within the garden safe
Each day and night I’d visit
The flower of the garden gate

Never tiring of its beauty
Enchanted within its scheme
To have found my perfect blossom
I was happy in extreme

As Summer languished idly
My blooms that year to die
I watched them fade before me
Not realizing, so would I

Spring green brought forth its beauty
Yet again my gardens bloom
More beautiful than ever
But lacked that strange perfume

Though many a year has passed
Through sunshine, wind and rain
My gardens filled with flowers
No gate flower appeared again

Now Winter visits my garden
Earth covered with blanket deep
I mourn the passing Summers
For Spring my eyes do weep

And oft times when I glance back
Once beauty held my being
Hot tears of silent longing
Endless flows from eyes unseeing

Despite my desperate yearning
and memories long since held
I am blessed it came to visit
if only once, it dwelled

I should not bewail its passing
But rejoice in err it came
Buying untold joy and passion
Its payment … enduring pain

I will forever treasure
The gift of love so great
With wonder tinged with sadness
Oh! my flower of the garden gate

NS
April 2009

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