(Though I originally wrote this as a metaphor for sex, I was trying to express how sensuality can be like losing yourself, on a warm sunny day in a beautiful garden. But I think it works just as a gardener and his garden as well?)

The Garden
by Jason Bayliss

Thursday 17th January 2019 7:38 pm



Oh richest of all fertile lands,

Bewitch me with your heady scent,

In your soft and tender hands,

I rest amid your firmament.



But resting only makes me rise,

And rising only drives me on,

On into your gentle depths,

On until my strength is gone.



And then I stop and catch my breath,

As in your bosom I recline,

And know there in your tenderness,

My heart is yours as yours is mine.



Gardener and garden joined,

Entwined both, that we may know,

The joyous reason we aligned,

To plant a seed and watch it grow.

In my over-heated opinion, this will not work as a tilling-the-soil piece. It is exquisitely tender and plain-speaking.

This is one to be archived as is!