Kiss me over the garden gate
and bring me berries and cream,
sing me a sunrise serenade
and make me your fair lady queen.
Sew me a dress of bridal silk
with buttons of mother of pearl,
trim it with orange sherbet lace
and I promise to be your girl.
I'll dance with satin slippers on
if you vow to forget me not,
and toast to you with pink champagne
if we only can tie the knot.
Though love lies bleeding for lost souls
who have eyes that have cried Job's tears,
if you will only pledge your troth,
I will gladden you all our years.
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Author Notes
This morning a friend told me he had recently bought his wife kiss me over the garden gate flowers for her garden. Upon hearing this delightful name, I googled it and found the flower on a website that sells heirloom or antique flowers (those that have been cultivated for over 50 years).
The list is filled with fanciful names that have all sorts of poetic possibilities. This poem is the result. The names of heirloom flowers are italicized.
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