clouds of rhododendron, close to our Earthly surface
distant enough to consume oneself in visionary pleasure
close enough to invite each visitor for a fleeting, delicate touch
we feel today colorful hope, these gardens
lined with planned pathways of artistic design
the moments a performance of colorful surprises
this visage an open door to hypnotic scents.
imagine these fields in their infancy, divided for an entitled few
the fruits of labor from numerous, unrecognized hands
oh lonely garden—now open to the eyes of the world
to those who continue to grant us these gifts of uncompromising beauty
you are the clearest mirror of majesty and bloom.