The Garden

A plant has bloomed into a flower very well,
Seeds were sown yesterday, only the bluebell.
Using sunlight and hero-worship is best,
Regretting any extolling that was abreast.
The garden is a city for the diffidence
Expressed by this appearance.
We are a number of angiosperms
In full religion, just as a prophet confirms.
His hood is like the floret or small flower,
His job is to garden the city and keep the cauliflower.
He also has bashfulness, sheepish though he remains
From the ever-growing symbols, the ever-changing gains.
We must pay our tribute to the king of gardening,
A man who is a great gardener, and he is beckoning.

poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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