Poem: My Heart is a Walled Garden

My Heart is as a Walled Garden
I sought a time of reflection within the sanctuary of the old church
The footpath was overgrown
The brambles sharp
The stinging nettles fierce
The way became impassable.

The only way in, in the end, was through the graveyard.
When I finally reached the church
The door was closed
The way was blocked
The entrance was locked.

With access denied
I continued on
Until I saw this sign:
“The Walled Garden”.

What treasures grow within?
Perhaps we shall never discover.
My heart is as a walled garden.

I forsook the occluded narrow path
And laboured back up the hill
Using the broad road.
It was shared with mad drivers
Hastening to what end, I do not know
But there was a sign:
“Men At Work”
And there is work yet to be finished.

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