The old garden is where I long to be,
a place I belong,
it's my life.
Something new is just not the way,
not the same it once was.
The garden of yesterday
is where I want to go.
Something new is just not for me.
The old garden is filled with laughter
from our children, and from our friends.
of days gone by still hang in the air.
Memories of joy, tears,
and happiness we've shared
through all those years.
Memories of youth, and of growing old,
echo long into the night.
Memories of our family tree
still linger there.
This new garden doesn't blossom,
like the garden I used to know.
There are no sweet aromas, no sounds,
thoughts are not the same.
My mind wanders off into a deep trance.
I wonder why I moved,
leaving so much behind,
who did I do it for?
Only the aroma from the old garden
can put the sweet scent back into the air.
I remember the people who made that garden
as fragrant as a fresh rose.
There's nothing like that sweet scent anywhere.
The old garden
is where our memories stay,
and there's nothing to compare.
(Life's poetic Journey)