~ The Garden Near The Sea ~

To weave the madrigals of sweet repose
Brings joy to voices that dare to sing what I compose
From a muse that cleanses as canticles spray from the sea
I bathe in the scented beauty so rhythmically inspiring...

How can such a place exist without being overrun
Perhaps its organic magic doesn't work for everyone
But somehow my essence changes, simply by entering
Down the stone path, to the marble bench and memory swing...

Where the cruelties of life, do gently slip away
No light, no color was ever seen, like here at heavens' gate
To the augury created, so deep inside of me
Which only ever happens, while reflecting, in the garden, near the sea...