Maybe it was the
call of springtime,
but the sweet melody of
the flute seemed to
bring the secret garden
back to life...

She wore a dress
of white lace.
Whiter than the lace
were her pearl earrings.
Sleeping peacefully
on a bed of
thorns and roses.
Cherry blossoms
in her hair.
One heavenly morning,
a beautiful melody
rised above the pine trees.
The tune of the
mysterious flute
player was that,
And the rose buds opened,
        The nightingale began to tweet,
The fountain was
filled  with water
        And the statue of an
angel began to pray.
Eyes of sapphire slowly opened.
Dew drops on her lashes.
The grass whispered
her precious secrets
to the silver
bells that chimed as
she sang her lullaby
to him, through the gentle
wind in the oak leaves.
Every morning while
the little kitten
chased the
pretty butterflies.
But now, when the
melody is gone and
autumn faded her garden,
she went to dream again,
under the shade of the willow.
Still their love song
can be heard,
where drooped roses wilt
and swans swim on
the shimmering pond,
near the little wooden bridge.

The secret garden knew
she loved him,
for her laughter
stirred the
dried rose petals...