the garden

Flowers standing tall

Soldiers of my creation

I'm careful not to let them drown 

It is not time for their execution

There are many bugs

Slim long lines of tan squiggle through

The roots

The soils held are dark like freshly ground coffee

And it sits there motionless unlike my coffee cup

Still like a corpse but never dead

Always alive like a zombie

The air around my garden is crisp

It's fresh like mama's lemonade

The sun gives just what it needs

And takes also in equal measure

Garden fences cage it all in

Secure like a prison's

but pretty like 

Mrs. Jensen's impeccable

White picket fence

My flowers are bright

fireworks in this cities constant grey

They won't match

Like a stubborn pair of socks

Dew clings to them

Their mamas hold them in their petals 

And if they fall

They fall fast

Just like I did for their beauty

Fast like rain and hard like hail

And go back to the flower

It's the cycle 

The hullahoop of life 

It goes round and round

Circling my hips, my world

It's the best type

One that doesn't fall to your ankles 

And stop 

Reviews

[SquinklaPsyOps]

This is very pretty, a metaphor to the cycle of human life as a mother must protect their children so that they are not harmed by the outside world.