The Garden

The grass that grows beyond the line
The garden of the most divine
If only it was mine
Its hands reach far and wide
The grass is left with little time
The lilacs growing taller
The roses are owned by no one
Its golden leaves are undone
Its vast form, so wild and free
Left for us to mourn and plea
And only if you look beyond
Behind the blue and silver pond
And if it’s found or discovered
The leaves will have to flee
Leaving not a single flower
To be plucked by you or me
No one can go beyond the line
Of bright grass and deep green vine
You want to keep this perfect garden
But nothing about it is kept, it’s guarded
You can leave it behind and just be done
The garden is owned by no one.