I stroll daily through the Garden of Rhyme
Picking from the fruit of the vine
Making sure it's perfectly ripe
Where I slice it into poetic line

Then take it and bake it into Poem
Out from the oven the moment it's done
Sharing it whole while it's still warm
So others may enjoy the taste of the Poem

And when the Poem has all been given away
It's back to the Garden for more of the same