Our Garden Poem by C. P. Sharma

Our garden, though old
still it is a cheerful archive
of the orderly beds we once laid.
Beautiful blossoms bloom even now,
cross pollination by bees and butterflies
changed their strain bit by bit.
But in them we can still enjoy
Our extended scent and hue.
Product of modified seeds
But the same main strain
will grow into trees.
Birds and winds
carry seeds,
sow them
in new
lands.
The beauty
of our soul
will ever shine
in ever new molds.
Under the moon and the stars
the jingles of love would be heard
through the flowers on our
verdant grassy grave
for the lovers
to feel the
sweet
music
of our
love.