Surrounded By the cold, Gray damp, I long for April, For the warm sun And the smell Of the garden. The gentle earth Pulls my cares From me And transforms them Into living goodness, Lovely blossoms, Luscious fruits And vegetables. Relationships Should be like that, Draining stress And worry From united souls, Giving back Love, joy, and serenity. But I must Labor in my garden, Pretending My squash and beans Are the happiness I seek But seldom find.
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