On some days when poetry doesn't come to mind
The home so quiet and ones all there all alone
And at times I would walk down through the garden
Along the paths twisting around all that had grown
I looked around and to my very such ever surprise
There was simply poetry absolutely everywhere
It was even floating within the garden breeze
And flying around within the garden purest air
There was endless poetry within the many flowers
And up among the tallest of garden trees
As well when the smallest birds there sang
And even from a near hive and the garden bees
As I sat on a low stool with a stick playing with a stone
I had there found an old coin once dropped by my mum
When long ago she walked down here as well it's so
She was doing back then As I this she had as well done
There was simply endless poetry there around me to find
And it seems that it will never ever not be endlessly
Poetry was then there and is so very all around us ever so
Like upon this day in the garden there was endless poetry.