As I walk among the flowers
that I planted with such care
I hear the small whisper
of the wildflowers there
their beauty so wild
not tended yet they grow
their blossoms so perfect
even some white as snow.
The purples and the oranges
the blues and the reds
there amongst the roses
in my little flower bed.
It's a garden that I love
every flower every weed
a sign of continued life
of strength indeed.

WhiteRose