When we first met

Our love was blooming

Like a garden in full spring,

Prismic colourations

It was such a beautiful thing

But over time the garden

Became neglected 

And we were both to blame

And soon the flowers wilted

And the colours began to fade.

Until one day

All that was left was a garden

Arid and devoid,

Of any beauty

And any trace

Of the love that me and you,

Once shared.

Oh, how I wish 

We had nurtured it more,

How I wish we had 

Put more store,

In each other

Instead of thinking 

It would be OK,

That love would prosper

Even if neglected 

Which is why it’s now decayed.

It went from full bloom in  full beauty 

Into Arid and wilted, decay in every way. 

Via: daily prompt: arid


5 thoughts on “Arid

  1. Gardens like love go through seasons where they bear harvest. Then there are seasons where work is required and no harvest for enjoyment. In love that work is spiritual, not seen by the untrained Eye. It’s preparation for a blooming garden full of nurturing harvest.

    Liked by 1 person

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