In the Gardens of My Mind :: Pete Freas
I’d like to think the gardens of my mind
reveal attended beds of sculpted grace
veined by narrow paths of stone within
the cooling shade of sprawling cypress trees.
But I neglect these fragile treasures and
allow my mental flower beds to face
a rampant overflow of weeds; and then,
hot, dusty trails slice through each of these.
Despite the differences between my dream
and my reality, is Queen Anne’s Lace
a flower or a weed? What simple man
can know? Perhaps who thinks, in truth deceives.
© Pete Freas 06.1996