The Maidens Gardner

A maiden’s garden blossoms

Her chaste is spent

A gardener plants his seeds

His children grow inside

This secret garden of delight

Crows “caw” to the wind

In the loss of the once forbidden delight

The Gardener is now a King

In his own right but

His crown has fallen

Resting at his feet

His strife makes the noblest men cry

Feeling pity upon themselves

And cry for loss of the delight

Sadness unto the maiden’s heart

Her King is under strife

And is not acting randy

But rather dull and grey

Running amuck and

Acting quietly drunk

As she lays naked in the sheets

Her body sweats and trembles

Her mind is abroad running searching

Her heart longing for his love to know her again

To feel her, to love her, lay with her

As he has done so many times

Before when feeling randy

Has his love known her only?

The maiden’s heart shall find it

In the garden of her King’s soul

 

Lasla Moore

Author's Note

All reviews are welcomed!!

Reviews

[Donald Meikle]

What a delightful metaphor to work with, ploughing, seeding, reaping, turning over, It's one to harvest in forever!
A break here and there would improve this (not that it needs much) and more subtle hidden rhyme to enhance what you already have going.
Take heed or ignore It's your work and I like it as it is.