The Forgotten Garden

The garden slumbers, overgrown and still,

Where roses once bloomed, with vibrant will.

Paths fade beneath a cloak of creeping vine,

Whispers of laughter, lost in the passage of time.

A broken sundial, marking forgotten hours,

Casts shadows long, on withered flowers.

The weathered bench, where promises were made,

Now stands alone, beneath the shade.

But amidst the leaves, a lone bloom survives,

A fragile hope, where beauty still strives.

A butterfly flits, its wings a splash of bright,

Ignoring the darkness, dancing in the light.

The wind whispers secrets, through rustling leaves,

Of seasons changing, new life it weaves.

For even in decay, new beginnings wait,

Beneath the soil, dreams patiently germinate.

Perhaps a hand will reach, with gentle care,

To clear the weeds, and let sunlight share.

For the garden may dream, of laughter's sweet sound,

And bloom anew, with beauty all around.

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