crooked path near vines of wrath
that slowly winds and never finds
the sacred place that was embraced
in early dawn now lost and gone

no longer there the balsam pear
another time a clock would chime
now broken bridges and torn off hinges
with swinging doors and buckled floors

broken channels and fallen panels
all stitched together with faded leather
and melted candles with rusted handles
now lay in waste in a forgotten place

twisted stairwells and sudden farewells
with shattered glass and tarnished brass
where light escapes through tattered drapes
that lay in waste in a forgotten space

a withered rose where weeds impose
is lost in time amongst the grime
where muddy footprints and sadness does hint
all lay in waste in a somber place

sadness fills the empty well no longer does the maiden dwell
a tender hand to till the land no longer in a space once grand

she will return amongst the fern
and lay in wait by garden gate
for his return oh she does yearn
to see his eyes she waits and cries

through bumpy trails and icy hails
the garden built no more in wilt
no longer blind their love entwined
again embrace in sacred space

Copyright Sharie Peters Parker, 2009, all rights reserved