The Beautiful Gardener
by Fiza Pathan
Summer heat drenches your face into warmth,
My heartbeat clutches my throat in amazement.
Everyday I watch you as you water your garden opposite my home,
Your long raven black hair caresses your sunflowers so golden.
They gleam more towards your calming face than face the scorching sun
You light up their day as well as mine.
Soft are your footsteps over the green grass
As if you are threading over cotton wool.
Your laced collar decorates your heavenly face,
It scintillates me in a thousand varied ways.
Your smile is reserved for your little saplings
Which you tend to, with delicate fingers into the wet mud.
The manure in the palm of your hand seems like the nectar of heaven,
Your gentle movements remind me of a pigeon feather in the breeze.
When you prick your little finger upon a treacherous thorn of the snow white rose,
Your blood drops and colours the pearl like flower into a shade of bright red.
The fragrance of the chrysanthemums are but nothing,
Compared to the scent of your redolent hair.
The strands of your dark lace flows with the hot breeze
Playing with it like a musician does with the harp.
I cannot go on with my day until I behold your moon like face.
They say your name means a thousand words
But for me it is just incomplete as our love story.
I know you dear but you observe me not,
Your waist is tied too tight with a leather belt and a golden buckle
That very buckle enters like an elf in my dreams to seduce me towards my casement again.
Darling I cannot get enough of you
As the bees in your lawn can’t get enough of the nourishment
That your blossoms provide without discrimination.
The barbs of unsporting wire separates you and me from an embrace of eternal passion.
As you pluck the green apples from the tree,
Your Eve like temptations assails my poetry.
Trimming your vines with a scissors so sharp,
Also cut the obsessive stalking of mine to your movements.
Plant me too in your plot of flowering shrubs,
Then watch how I grow to love you more and more everyday.
Don’t harm the beetle upon your cheek,
He kisses you in my name with all reverence and humility.
Bless yard creatures that can find in you their peace,
I don’t even have courage to call you out by name.
Water my chest dear virgin so beautiful with your porous pot,
And as I feel the chill of your benevolence to my thirsty heart,
Then like a mighty fly trap shall I enclose you into my life forever more.
Copyright © 2013 Fiza Pathan
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