[COLOR=green]This is my first poem. I don't think it's very good, but oh well.
4/30/2002
[I]One day, the East Wind asked me:
"Child, where does your garden grow?"
And I replied:
"My garden grew where the honey bees danced,
where the sun smiled, and the dew drops rested.
My garden resembled a rainbow, spread out on the soil.
But no more. The owner of that garden was murdered by
the sword, and the garden itself was set ablaze. No more
will the honey bees dance on the rainbow, the sun will smile
on a field of ashes, the dew drops will rest on a solitary
grave."
The East Wind replied:
"It might be able to grow again one day, child. Another
gardener might be able to bring back the rainbow."
And I said to this:
"It is true what you say Mr. East Wind. But once they do,
they will find the grave with this conversation carved into it,
they will find the Gardener's Lament."[/I][/COLOR]