Regarding gardens I have planted – oh!
How this one creeps; you sting, and still I toil
Thorns kiss my fingers; dreams sink into soil
Lulled, yet I ache to reap what I sow
Carnations bloom, pervade my mind, and grow
In place of notions; breath takes, I recoil –
Afraid of petals – Lily, don’t spoil.
Tender roots reach, stretch, envelop me slow
Now my sweet Cereus, veiled, hides away,
But patience is a virtue; it satiates
This taste. Alas, from my lips I pray:
“Forget-me-not!” until summer turns late,
My garden only grows – neglect dismay,
Forget-me-not! Long seasons I will wait.