Dear Diary,
Ah, the weeds that grow in a Garden Untended.
Didn’t I just yank a few out
As I was passing by the other day?
Certainly, pulling a couple should have helped?
But no.
Where did this ugly jungle come from?
Their roots are long and thick and coiled.
Where are my flowers?
Their delicate fragrance is not to be found.
I anxiously search to assure myself that they still exist.
There.
Deep within the mass of angry, threatening growth
Are the tiny, white wild flowers
Of hope and fresh joy
Waiting patiently amongst the chaos.
And so the work begins.
Each weed extracted is painful to
Endure with their thorns and clutching roots.
But, the Garden must be cleared
Of suffocating weeds
To allow hope and joy to grow and breathe.
And so I toil.
Didn’t I have to do this before?
Yes, I did. Now, again.
And I remember the beauty of the Cleared Garden
With only the fresh, white wild flowers
Released.
I must not allow my Garden to be ransacked thus, again.
I must be diligent
And recognize and banish the weeds
As they creep in before they own
My Beautiful Garden.
Dear Diary .... by Kellianne Sweeney 
Comments on: "Garden Untended" (10)
Beautifully put, Kellianne!
I really am going to have to do some weeding soon. I did so much work clearing the garden when I moved here. It had had years of neglect. Mind you, still waiting for better weather really :o)
Hope your garden is off to a beautiful start by now! Have a lovely day, Dean!
Very sweet and loving, Kellianne. It’s haunting, too. Or is it just me?
I hope things are looking up for you these days.
Your buddy from Cali,
-Jimmy
Hello Jimmy!
Thank you and have a wonderful day 🙂
Beautiful Poem. It made me think of life and how ugly things can root around us. We must always weed our garden to keep them away.
Yes, and so we should and shall! Thank you Connie 🙂
I just came back from a trip across the country, and your work echoes the thoughts I had upon my return! The mark of a good poem is that it can have so many different meanings that are dependent on what happens in the *reader’s* life, rather than just the poet’s intention. Clearly, this poem fits the bill. Awesome!
What a wonderful comment! Thank you so much, Rebecca. I am very flattered by your thoughts.
And you hear the white flowers say thank you as you say thank you back
🙂