The Gardener's Dreams

They came, they saw, they conquered your challenges

How bittersweet, the gardener's dreams have been

Each tiny seedling nourished, its poetic progress cherished, and in your garden, they flourished

Green fingers till words like verdant soil, enriched with mother nature's composition

Agricultural idioms fill the ether, leaving nothing to discern, and whilst dealing with personal chaos, she chose

Rotation of form to encourage the growth of budding authors roots, burrowing deep into our psyche

Distilling and steering, works of unexpected perfection, to publication

Each, and every season, she gave us rhyme and reason

New life sprouted forth every spring, fostered by Gaia

Each summer wrote in flowers, but this one, wrote tears, in showers

Rustling words fell like drought wrinkled leaves, in an autumn famine

Silence whispers as a phrase-less wind blows, and we face a long blank winter, as the photosynthesis of words becomes a trickle

Down different pages, Gaia's growing children's eyes have wandered

Reaching for their literary zenith, but their part in her story is yet to finish

Endings do not exist, for every moment that passes, begins a new stanza

All her world is a garden of hope and love, not full stops, a place where a

Mother's help, ensures her children's dreams, are not written in sand

She looks forward with pride, to their homecoming, with grandchildren in tow, to walk again, in the abundance of her wordsmith's garden, amen

Footnote:

I have dedicated this, probably the most beautiful acrostic poem I've composed, to Myna @MystesMyna, who has my utmost respect as a fellow poet.

I do not want to get ahead of myself, but without her and my good friend Joe's @lyttlejoe persistent encouragement, I would never have dared to call myself a poet, so my sincere thanks to you both.