|Primeval plants grow
lush in the semi-tropical mush.
Lizards abound. They creep around
While butterflies with jet-bead eyes flutter through the cloudless skies.
Quarreling squirrels race through the trees,
birds glide by looking for bees,
They broil in the sun's golden glare, refreshed by crystal raindrops
and jasmine scented air.
Then comes twilight's silvered haze, and the sun decends in a ruby blaze.
On night's black velvet screen, the moon gives off a pearly sheen,
and stars, like diamonds, gleam.
Dark, steamy and thrumming with sound, the garden prays
for the sun to rebound.
By Marilyn Johnson - 1996 Copyright All Rights Reserved