In my garden

I walk, slowly,

Leaving my apprehensions

Downright at the doorstep,

For I smell something, tender,

Like Mint, and I pray

By the Holy Basil,

Sprinkling water over

The rose-like cabbage,

Erecting the vines

As a vertical hostage,

I search for French Beans today

And forget what I was searching

Before I stepped in between

These green lines, where

Little buds complement the Fenugreek,

An escape is all I seek

From the conundrums of the day.

Engaged, I feel.

I gaze. Can’t help but be gay.

I walk, slowly,

Breaking the boredom

Of the humdrum

In my garden.