Rosewood

He came to life in the garden sealed behind heavy iron gates

flanked by guards with attending wings wide open.

His mind returned among that vibrant life,

catching sight of sanity in glimpses of unimaginable flowers.

The most beautiful often drooled down the front of her apron.

She lapped up whatever she was given,

endearing herself to the staff.

That fuzzy feeling made him a little sick.

He was touched by her smile shining through all of that.

Lived for exchanged looks when they were wheeled past.

They sat on opposite sides of the pond today,

he hoped for a lucid glimmer.

A blank face was all she had to offer

before her head lolled back onto her chest.