Gardens Of The Heavens Poem by Timothy Long

Speaking of flowers, speaking of blooms hidden it comes always springing twice, how do you create? How do you establish? The guardian strike once clean, only 2 got past its devilish gleams, hundreds fell, some will sneak through, the fabulous garden of youth, blessed and tried true, hidden and unforeseen, like for the first time if love, more in turn of giving peace a chance, a guardian it has, so foul with no exemption, with doubt a bystander will come about, to destroy and set out...he did it his way, never listening to those who escaped, before, seeming more of a past then future, get what you can before your fate is sealed, twice burned until one fell, garden of hell, keep me with the list of lies, shudbeaming a savory breath, what a funny thing this is, no do vers, death or life? as the grinch of the heavens strike as all.