She was once a young lady, wonderful and life was filled with mystery, and not a passion in sight. But all too late the young lady, now old, realizes the importance of youth to maintain the garden she loves and how easily it can be taken away.

It was a cold day

My flowers were wilting

And the squirrels' fur was hiking

Summer's leaves began to fall

The trees were able to add another ring

As another skin coated them

They were left barebones and empty

With the grass at its feet

Left dry and pale

I squatted and plowed

Day after day in those frail bushes

Hoping to help them flourish

For at least a day

But all hopes were ruined

By that horrid frost

I wept like a mother for their deceased child

Asking and pleading God for No More!

My youth had been lost

My hands were too crippled

My body had wasted away

And my garden

My beautiful pride

Was gone

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.