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a disappointing harvest

so you fancied yourself a gardener
when the wind blew the seeds your way

tilling the soil
clearing the weeds
watering, when the rains refused to fall

and you dreamt you’d harvest blossoms
in the colours of God

fragrant flowers
wonders to behold
the crowning glory of your toil

why did you frown
at your harvest of straw?
can bricks be made from blossoms?
can the weary rest
on a bed of fading roses?

By Denise Young