Secret Garden

Ramesh Dohen

The morning swung open like an iron gate
We walked down the path to breakfast.
A cool wind blows this very moment
Stirring the steadfast willow leaves
The wheat bend, the leaves of the peach trees
In a chorus line
The invitation was for you
Rest with me under the linden tree
As the sky returned to baby blue,
the swifts do not sing
what they do well

Ramesh Dohen

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