It was there during my juvenile childhood, some time, long, long ago.
T`was, in a blooming garden, sunny and Iris aglow,
Where drifting gardenia incense,
Floated air born during a breezy, after fiesta, afternoon.
Filling my senses and stirring me
To nature`s beauty for the very first time.
Early May, the fifth of May, the year I don`t recall.
As it turned out, it turned out to be a fine, fine day.
It was someone`s birthday.
It was there, where I spied frolicking in my grandmothers` garden.
My flower; I had never seen such floristic transformation.
A spring blossom incarnate.
The pure clean fragrance of her free flowing ribbon hair,
Entered my nostrils, stimulating the endorphin compartments of my
The tender melodies she murmured, rippled the air so sweet, so fair.
Reaching my ear; gently sliding in spiraling semicircles, straight to my not
yet tested heart.
And thus I, the wondering vagabond,
Became entranced, enchanted by the emanation of her luminous radiance.
I stealthy sought a place, within her aura`s perimeter, where I could
A permissible means, allowing me to somehow keep near her,
And because of this novice flowering vision before me.
I decided there and than
To stay and pray, to stay and root, hoping for a pollen bond.
So there, in that efflorescent kaleidoscope garden, yesterday, so long ago,
Perfumed, with many waltzing, daffodils, swaying light purple lilacs,
Suggestive stargazer lilies, emitting hyacinths, jasmine, gardenias
Aromatic, blazing and pastel roses, whispering to the wind their afternoon
Jingling, colorful trumpet bells
All in unison, orchestrating scents, canvassing scents, coated me with my
That pulled me from my wayward path…
But it was especially she!
Who in the freshness of that fateful spring day,
A flora, opened right in front of me,
Sowing her love eternally deep, profoundly deep, inside of me.
Rudy H. Garcia 11/4/07