"The Blind Gardener of Love" (On Valentine's Day, give love to the blinds and the impaired)


(By: Rosauro M. Angeles at rossmangeles@hotmail.com)


I will come to your garden
Unhindered by disability
No one can stop me
I am a gardener of love
I am sorry, I am blind

 So sorry I am
 I can no longer view
The twin healthy mountains
In the heart of your garden

Great mountains
Proud and tall, delicate and soft
 I have had a lot of fun
Climbing and playing
It is also like having
An enjoyable ice cream

I used to gently pinch
The strawberry on its mountain top
Most often I will make a small careful bite
And dribble it in my mouth
I also used to sip it
As if I have
 A spicy soup in a bowl

But I know loving massage
Is what your mountains want 

So sorry I am
I can no longer see
The rich abundance of trees
That adorned your forest

I will just slowly and tenderly
Run my caring hands
In your short and wavy
Massive fine strands
Of curly vast grass of land

 So sorry I am
I can no longer appreciate
The pearl like beauty
Of one single precious flower
That makes your forest
Akin to Eden’s heaven
A garden of paradise

 A unique flower
Whose diamond shape
I used to inspect and admire
As I smell its unique fragrance
It sends shiver to my spine
Turning me crazy
Uneasy and wild

A good gardener as I am
I will work on your garden
With masterful caresses
Of care and of love
With gentle touches
Of my fingers and warm
Loving hands

 With continued passionate strokes
Of my long hardened tongue
Aided by my well experienced hands
I will cultivate your garden
Turning the dry land
Soft, moist and watery
Preparing the soil
To receive the bounty
Seeds of love

So sorry I am
I can no longer watch
The rapid flow of sweet nectars
That oozes out from the flower bud
That honey bees
Harvest with love

So sorry I am
 I can no longer witness
Your enormous joy
When you are
 Trembling and shaking
While I perform
A masterful drilling dance
From slow sweet music
To rock and roll
To a sprinting athlete
Of 100 meter dash

I can fully feel
The musical rhythm
As the leaves and branches
Sway to a sensual dance
The sounds of moaning
And of begging
As I slow down in my drill
I know how hard you catch
Your hurried breath
I know how eager
Is your need
As you shout so loud
You want me to come
The flower is about to come
I can hear you
I am not deaf
I am blind


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