A Garden Trespassed

This is one I hold close to the chest. I hope it’s not so close that it means nothing to you.

Poem 236 out of 365 –

There were flowers, red and gold.
An intoxicating fragrance sprang forth
From the garden that I was told
Not yet, not yet, not yet.

Glistening leaves, a macabre green
Begging to be touched and seen 
Even though the gard’ner reminds me
Not yet, not yet, not yet.

I still snuck in after dark
I had to stroke the gorgeous petals
The heavy fragrance soaked my hands
And left chips of golden metal.

“Did you go in?” the next day he asks
The gardener whose flowers I defaced
He must know from my glittering palms
And the smell I can’t erase

It’d be stupid to lie, he definitely knows
I’d do myself no favours by deceit
Saying nothing, I show him the gold
Still sticking to hands that he washes clean.

~ Essie