Seldom Tasted

I look too handsome for my books

And scare my common friends with looks.

The lover stunned by obvious goods 

Will soon be lost in darker woods.

The gaze that’s quick and can’t contain —

The “care” drones on, I wish it gone.

The traveler quits before the end

And leaves me waiting at the bend

Of rarely found gardens of good —

Fated fruits misunderstood.

Though kind and silent I will stay,

“Please go with me,” I think to say.

Seldom tasted best of all —

The place where God and children call.

I sit alone in company 

With only me who waits to see.

While in this quiet sacred grove

I pluck a treasured yellowed rose;

I smell the fragrance oh so sweet,

Remove the shoes from off my feet.

Wash in waters clean and clear,

The gentle flow is all I hear.

Though none but me awaits me here —

I feel no doubt, no shame, no fear.

For good remains the garden grove 

For anyone to come behold.