Moving on in the garden – Poem

It was a beautiful thing
It came about by chance
It would have been good
It ripped my pants

Alas it couldn’t be allowed to grow
Unmanageable, the garden,
And so the decision was made
To break the branches before they harden

The fruit it bore
Could have been sour
The foliage too green
Belladonna, the flower

But since it broke
I’ve missed it a lot
Nothing much else
To be, it was not

But part of me hopes
That it will grow once more
In a more manageable way
Than it did before.