In my Garden, blooms a rare, Each Petal, a whisper of Self-love's affair— A fragrance, sweet, entwines the air, The blush of Dawn, in meadows where. Each Blossom, bold, in secret thrives, As I, alone, delight in lives Of passions stirred, not chastely bound, Where strength in solitude is found. My heart—a quiet, earn…
Keep reading with a 7-day free trial
Subscribe to edgard to keep reading this post and get 7 days of free access to the full post archives.