Our Garden Plans
The garden gnomes are busy tonight in the garden, there is much to be planted. I want to walk together tonight and plan and plot thru the cemetery in the back.
Vines, everywhere of course, the creeping kind, and all the flowers are white, and bloom at night , tho they do say in Deaths garden all the flowers are blue. That’s her garden tho, and this is ours.
There is a gravel path that leads to a crypt, where someone sleeps during the day, it is empty now of course, the sleeper awake and eating mangos in our ballroom.
Even in the dark of the moon our garden seems light, with the white flowers, and our cats eyes that see in the dark, more easily perhaps than during the day, when all is hazy and half asleep. It is a myth that our kind cannot abide the daylight with out burning, we can abide it , we just don’t prefer it, people are so silly, aren’t they?
Deadly nightshade, mandrake root ( i love to hear it scream when we harvest it, it reminds me so of you when you sing, wild and fey and free ) jasmine, ginger and mint, they make such a lovely tea. Moonflowers grow like weeds anyway , and iris make me happy. What else shall we have them plant in the garden, in the back of the house, which sits on the street where there are no lights? Or other houses.
A winged horse grazes among the graves , side by side with something that might be a mare. Or a women. Or water. Someone calls from the veranda that the time for work is past, and should we not come in and dance for a while?