(Written in 2017)
Upon the forlorn steps, surveying
An old estate in deepening gloom,
I listless stood, among the silent, towering,
Lonely pillars—graceful remnants of some doom.
The place was dark (I wanted day),
And yet I also wished to wander,
For in the dim descending twilight lay
What seemed to be a ruin or a garden.
A path led down—so long untaken--
The inky sky was starless and half-hid by looming trees;
But fresh night breezes, like the rain and roses shaken,
Blew, so softly scented with the humid earth and leaves.
Descending there, I held aloft a lantern to illumine
Full foliage that greenly hedged my way,
Their varied tones and patterns gently hinting
Of ancient gardeners pruning for today.
My smooth-stoned path seemed not to wander,
But curved intently toward a further place,
But I, uncertain, stopped instead to ponder,
And found the night had filled my heart with peace.
So long wrapped up in stillness that I too
Had finally been stilled, with lightened eyes,
I turned to search the shadows for the flowers
That silently perfumed my paradise.
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Artist and Purveyor of Endless Possibilities