Oh! How the flowers bloom

When I tend to them

So carefully like a

Mama Kitty to her kin

The roses. My favourite!

Red as the juicy blood apples

That grow at the East End of my garden

I like to keep their pointy thorns

As sharp as my shovels.

The dirt. Oh! The dirt!

I give them everything they need

To flourish in the uneven weather patterns

After all,

They need to be well looked after

For all the murky bones I hide underneath them

Ah! My favourite part.

Digging.

Dig, dig, digging.

It’s a relaxing feat under the stressful

Reprochassions that life likes to throw at me.

Dig,

Dig,

Digging.

Today, the roses are flouring nicely.

As red as the blood in my hands.

Their thorns as sharp as my knife

I clutch tightly upon.

“Bye bye bones!”

I say with a cheeky smile.

Oh! How I love gardening.