Sometimes,
When I sit,
In my garden,
And look,
Around me,
I see
The leaves
Fall down,
From the trees
To the ground,
And the flowers
Fade like
Small dreams,
I feel pain,
Deep inside.
And tears
Fall down,
One by one.
Nothing is
Left now,
Here with me,
In my garden,
Except
My guitar,
A book
Of poems,
And a dream,
In my chest.
Maybe,
Tomorrow,
The boughs
Of the trees,
In my garden,
Will bear
New leaves,
And the flowers
Will bloom,
With smiles,
As glittering
As the rays
Of the sun,
And as
The moon light,
And the stars
Of the night,
When spring comes,
To my garden,
And my heart.