The summer’s joys have gone
Leaving fallen whispers
Beneath a weeping sun
Alas the soil is barren
For seeds they sleep quite still
There’s no more births for this year
Just the winters chill
The garden sleeps in slumbers
Way beyond each dawn
Forgetting when to wake up
Its coat it seems forlorn
For all things have a season
That’s why I have this garden
For here I know is mine
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