Julie Rosenfield

My journal


We’re here in the lovely garden

Giving praise to the oak and pine

Him, my young, gentle gardener

Me, older and more refined.

* * *

We’ve marvelled how roses renew

And blossom flutters down from the tree

When, all of a sudden, he turns

And announces that he loves me!

* * *

I feel now the hope of spring

Breaking through to my locked-in life

With an endlessly, fault-finding husband

And me, a sad, dreary wife

* * *

I stare at him long as I can

  Till reality dawns all anew

I sigh as I have to agree

“Yes. And I love yew too.”


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