The Garden of Eden

Meadows of lilies, droplets of dew;
A fiery orange enhances the hue.
A babbling brook runs upon a creek;
A quarry vagabond, an answer to seek.
A presence of warmth passes nearby;
The Garden of Eden eases a sigh.
Those beautiful petals upon a white rose;
Velvety soft, are the ones he chose.
A circle of daisies so cheerful with blithe;
A lavender Morning Glory tells them her myth.
Delicate butterflies fluttering their wings;
The metallic blue ones must be the kings.
The loving presence grows ever so near;
The flowers grow restless knowing their
gardener is here.
They beam and share their love, to the new baby deer;
Their silent rustle, a melodic tone,
expresses their mirth and unanimous cheer.
The palm of creeks swoops to feel;
The purest of flowers are the ones so real.
The innocent baby’s breath sprays its smiles;
He knows they’ve stretched for millions of miles.
The brightest of carnations, the sweetest grass;
the golden buttercups so deep like brass.
Of all the lovely flowers in the field;
The purest ones are the ones he has silently sealed.
The warm presence reveals his love;
A rainbow parts and there descends a dove.
As if by message it picks a rose;
It was the purest one that he chose.
The warm presence remains nearby;
The Garden of Eden eases a sigh.
by Susan Choi, May 1996