The Stranger in My Garden
By Jason L. Polson
Sitting in my garden nook,
I pause to think,
As I read a book.
A tingling chill runs down my spine,
Someone's watching
From behind the vine.
I do not move, yet try to spy.
To see who's looking.
They catch my eye.
From behind the brush, a pretty smile,
She's watching still,
Has been awhile.
I turn my head and let loose a grin.
She stares at me,
And smiles again.
So I relax there in my nook,
And turn again
To open my book.
But this time I think I'll read aloud
And draw her closer,
On a poetic cloud.
Pretty words tumbling from my lips,
As closer still
The stranger slips.
I'm probably expecting far too much,
But then I smile,
As I feel her touch.
A gentle hand on my shoulder felt
It's warm and soothing,
And so, I melt.
My rhymes fill the air, there in my nook,
But the verses are mine,
I've closed my book.
She sits still silently as she can be,
Listening intently
And watching me.
She kisses me softly, there in the sun,
And our souls combine,
Making us one.
Copyright © 2000 by Jason L. Polson
