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Amy Lowell - The Fruit Garden Path
Work rating: Low

The path runs straight between the flowering rows, 
 A moonlit path, hemmed in by beds of bloom, 
 Where phlox and marigolds dispute for room 
With tall, red dahlias and the briar rose. 
`T is reckless prodigality which throws 
 Into the night these wafts of rich perfume 
 Which sweep across the garden like a plume. 
Over the trees a single bright star glows. 
 Dear garden of my childhood, here my years 
Have run away like little grains of sand; 
 The moments of my life, its hopes and fears 
Have all found utterance here, where now I stand; 
 My eyes ache with the weight of unshed tears, 
You are my home, do you not understand?
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