The Trouble With Being a Gardener

i have clothed her in

petals of violets and tulips,

and pansies and roses,

that i picked from the

gadda-da-vida*.

I have watered her

and held her in

the sun light.

i have lain here waiting

as long as I could,

hoping someday she would be ready

for me to pluck her from this pot

of naiveté

in which she rests so prettily.