Garden.

I might write more.

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Dew's own scent lives,
The veins run dual,
Occupied leaves and throbs,
Of life, green joy found,
Of children, blessed saplings.

Creepers lean, for life,
Even if supported, adding,
Curving eyes through bark,
If for sakes, deep difference,
Both join, sturdy veiled weak.

Grows the greens and others,
Living, or colored, within,
Without, sires remain old,
Flutters spread offspring,
Twice valued, nature dictates.

~ Ielfphil Raven.