The Wish Garden
© 1999 Eric C. Lind

Little box on window top,
Grazing for some sun.
Little herbs with pungent vines,
Complimenting Merlot wine.
Simply going to be divine,
when the chef is done.

Little box on window top,
basking in the rains,
looking on as master cleans.
Silver polish everything.
Making sure the table gleams,
that it won't look plain.

Little box on window top,
waiting for new seeds.
Little herbs are in the pot,
melodies from earthen stocks.
"Oh my goodness did She knock?!?!"
And Master moves with speed.

                                                (and the little herbs say......=)

Hurry up and get the door!
Don't keep Her waiting anymore.
We'll help you make a good rapport,
on this happy day.

Master goes and let's Her in,
takes Her coat and pleasant grins,
blushes some above the chin,
and offers Her a chair.

Hurry back! Don't get absorbed,
or the mess will be abhorred,
boiling over, spilled, and poured.
Oh what a mess we'll make.

Not to worry here he comes,
despite the fact that he's all thumbs,
thankfully one greenish one,
to make this luscious meal.

There he goes to carve the beast.
Siblings in there help the feast.
Can't resist it in the least!
He offers her the meal.

                                                (and the little box says... =)

Go ahead and seat her down.
Serve the soup of golden brown,
and the beast to be renown,
by both of you this eve.

                                               (and the narrator says... =)

Happiness the table cloth,
spreading wildly like a froth.
Simple pleasures for them both,
are tenants for this meal.

Hoping He's a decent host,
"God bless the one who eats the most!",
He says quite proudly in a toast,
and prays for her appeal.