Steemitpoetrycontest #10: The garden and the miser
The world, my friend, has been remade,
and the garden beds live on after dying:
winter fed them its waters and dressed them in crimson and purple brocade.
The flowers rejoiced seeing the clouds
sending down their rain without end,
and swifts cry now over the treetops
while turtledoves coo and moan.
To all this, friend, make haste,
the wine will soon drown our concerns.
and take what Time offers, but know
that a miser’s gifts are mistakes.