IN THE GARDEN OF DEW


by Dennis R. Rushing

I am walking in a garden of dew,
To hide my tears I cry for you.

The garden of beauty is filled with flowers,
Yet the skies above threaten showers.

Gently the butterflies glide and flutter,
On a cool breeze that makes me shutter.

I am walking in a garden of dew,
Hoping to discover love anew.

The birds in the tree sing a song of joy,
While the clouds above prepare to destroy.

The mockingbird sings his songs of happiness.
The mourning dove announces my loneliness.

I am walking in a garden of dew,
Searching for a love that's true.

The bees swarm and gather their pollen,
But the clouds above: Dark and Swollen.

On the path ahead, there is a fair maiden,
But I bear a heart that's heavy-laden.

I am walking in a garden of dew,
Hiding a soul that's bitter and blue.

I can smell her sweet perfume fragrance;
As the lightning strikes in the distance.

She turns and motions for me to approach,
Yet my conscience tells me not to encroach.

I am walking in a garden of dew,
Looking for a love I once knew.

The beauty of the maiden gives me hope for love:
As the dark clouds began to weep from above.

Gracefully she runs to be held in my arms,
While I look ahead and cry out in alarm.

I am walking in a garden of dew,
Crying again at the loss of you.

Just seconds away from a loving caress,
The luminous storm releases its distress.

Her sweet fragrance, that of a newly bloomed rose,
Have all but vanished with the winds that arose.

I am walking in a garden of dew,
Weeping of love lost so new.

The skies are clear above the garden of delight,
Yet at my feet is a ghastly, gruesome sight.

Once she was graceful and easy to admire,
Yet the storm destroyed my last desire.

I am walking in a garden of dew,
I've lost another, just like you.


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In the Garden of Dew, 30 December 1999