In the garden of our dreams, a story left untold,
Your favorite flower, a tale of love unfold.
Petals of longing, in my hands, they hover,
A seed I never planted, a garden without its flower.
What's your favorite flower? I'll never truly know. The bloom of affection, I yearned to show.Unwatered wishes, soil untouched by grace, In the absence of love, an empty vase.
Yet, in the echoes of what could have been,
A garden of memories, where love was seen.
The seed of regret, in my heart, it's sown,
A flower ungiven, its beauty unknown.
So, what's your favorite flower? I'll always wonder,
In the silence of absence, love torn asunder.
A bud never opened, a fragrance not dispersed,
In the garden of love, our story immersed.
PS Eugene. T. Msipa
Jan 6, 2024
Jan 6, 2024 at 1:02 AM UTC
In the garden of our dreams, a story left untold,
Your favorite flower, a tale of love unfold.
Petals of longing, in my hands, they hover,
A seed I never planted, a garden without its flower.
What's your favorite flower? I'll never truly know. The bloom of affection, I yearned to show.Unwatered wishes, soil untouched by grace, In the absence of love, an empty vase.
Yet, in the echoes of what could have been,
A garden of memories, where love was seen.
The seed of regret, in my heart, it's sown,
A flower ungiven, its beauty unknown.
So, what's your favorite flower? I'll always wonder,
In the silence of absence, love torn asunder.
A bud never opened, a fragrance not dispersed,
In the garden of love, our story immersed.
PS Eugene. T. Msipa
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