In this quite garden alone I do sit Hoping friends will drop by for a visit Warmth from the sun, softness of breeze The squeak of my gate would surely please Seedlings floating by brushing my cheek A near perfect day but for one thing I seek Wanting to hear a squeak from my iron gate Hearing someone say, I'm so sorry we're late I try very hard to keep a smile on my face In my minds eye I can go almost any place Climbing mountains, wading through brooks My adventures come from reading many books Day nearing it's end, nothing more I can say The black iron gate didn't squeak open today Tomorrow the sun is definitely going to shine Going out when it's nice folks are more inclined Author Eileen Clark 2011
From the author, this poem is not about me.
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