The Garden
By Valkyrie Speaker.
Surrounded by color:
Purple, Red, Blue.
The flapping butterflies:
Yellow, Black Orange.
A well filled with soil,
I tread a path to.
A cat, stalking it's lunch,
sneaking through giant stems.
The air is clear,
the bees are busy.
Eating the color
of the garden.
When the wind blows,
the colors fly.
The colors sway.
Back, and forth again.
The birds lose their balance,
on the newborn oak.
Flying in unison
and back again.
The webs are broken,
and the insect goes to work.
Freshly spun, the web is anew,
waiting to be destroyed again.
Made home by many,
depended on by many,
respected by many,
is the garden.















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