Is the city of gardens!
With wise learned wardens!
And a small piece of land,
On the farther end,
In a corner neglected,
Only few plantations!
Where visitors are rare,
There is no boundary wall,
As the fear of being plucked,
The flowers don’t have.
The familiar faces,
With silver in their hairs,
And gold in their hearts,
Often visit this land.
They kiss the flowers,
They feel their fragrance,
And when they kiss the flowers,
Their kiss is not wild!
They kiss the flowers,
As a granny kisses,
Her newly born grandchild,
Still in the cradle!
Lovely, lightly and gently,
Their passion and emotion,
Their promoting kindness,
Makes the flowers smile.
And the life of flowers,
Is increased by a day,
And the land is inspired,
Furthermore for the flowers!
(A lovely comment of Valsa George inspired me to write this poem. Thanks Valsa)