No Gardener Required

Oh’ my
little garden
perfect
any time of year,
regardless
of the seasons ..
With your
flawless yet so
delicate divide ..
Calling me
with whispers
from
somewhere
so well hidden ..
Tho’ not
so very deeply
rooted
much like a
sacred
vineyard laden ..
Where
a single scented
fuchsia now
smiles and thrives ..
Nigh on
two point five,
heavy
calloused fingers
wide ..
Without any
doubt well-tended
and so
very carefully
maintained ..
Regardless of so
many
probing tongues
and of course
those prying eyes ..