Best Poem of B.M. Gray

The Gardener
THE GARDENER


I'm sitting on the bench, where I once sat with you,
The first faint gleam of dawn has brought the morning dew
Rain falls like tears from wind tossed skies
On violets of blue, reminding me of the colour of your eyes.

The garden mourns, for the gardener is lost
Like the dead . . .
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Where Will I Find You?
I know you are somewhere where beauty lies
maybe in the warmth of an old man's eyes.
Or in the pearls of morning dew,
that melt away when the sun breaks through.
I may find you amongst the trees,
of a mighty forest blowing in a soft gentle breeze
If I walk along this road will you be round the next bend,
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