Watering Flowers

Because I decided to write (another) real poem. I really need to knock it off and write my book. Oh well, this is fun:

Watering Flowers

In her garden she waters her flowers.
Refreshing mist from the hose on a searing day.
In the hot summer sun, a cooling shower.

Out in the heat for more than an hour,
I catch from the nozzle an occasional spray
while in her garden, she waters her flowers.

She knows very well of the power
she wields. Without water, there is only decay
in the hot summer sun. A cooling shower.

Mouth drying, in the shade I cower.
On the patio, in a swing I lay,
while in her garden, she waters her flowers.

Wishing I was in the forest, covered by bower,
I run in the grass, choosing to play.
In the hot summer sun, a cooling shower.

A gallon of water I am ready to devour,
Until tomorrow we retreat inside without delay.
In her garden she waters her flowers.
In the hot summer sun, a cooling shower.

-Sean Paul