Memory Garden ~ a poem
She'd always known that flowers regrew first after devastation
In the darkness, as she sat in the rubble and ruin,
Paying her reparation
The season turned and spring brought crimson clovers
Their rich pigment embodying how deeply she loves
Shortly after, morning glory followed
Their conceited vibrance a reminder of a world of colour
A while later, the poppies came, skirting the edges of the garden
Their haem told a story of passion that trespassed the mind's warden
Now the memory garden was complete
Done is the ruin
Now, into her fabric, into immortality, these flowers are sewn in
Material composition: 50% cotton 50% acrylic
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