In search of poems today

I stepped onto my tiny stretch

of a land,

a garden? may be,

which is strange and enchanted-

(a poem is very much possible

even on the tip of a leaf here)

here reside strong willed

trees, plants, shrubs-

queer fellows they are-

they chose the site and flourished

without a care for a gardener-

they have weird ways

of asserting themselves-

like this white periwinkle,

that even forced its way

into this poem.



Posted for Susan’s Midweek Motif ~ Gardens @ Poets United