Lady in a Garden
In my garden is a lady
Delicate, sweet and shy,
She paints my world in colours bright,
And sails across the sky.
Her cloak is of many shades:
Purple, violet, blue,
Peacock, white and burgandy,
And clouded yellow too.
She is the glory of the earth,
Not haughty, vein or proud,
A messanger from paradise,
Who hovers like cloud.
The artist who had made the world,
Made us this precious gift,
To make a sunny day perfection,
And our spirits lift.
In my garden is a lady,
Delicate, sweet and shy.
She paints my world in colours bright,
She is a butterfly.
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A lovely and sensitive poem Laura, it is so easy to miss the simple beauty in life but you have found a beautiful way of reminding all of this pleasure, thanks for sharing