Colonial Garden

The twisting flagstones lead me through,
The vibrant colonial garden.
Many foods grow there, and medicines
To keep the Reaper's pardon.

Echinacea, Valerian root,
To pluck and ease our ills,
The closest thing I've seen to magic,
Is this power to them instilled.

Tobacco and Tulsi by the gate,
To appease what spirits drawn,
By the sacred scent of the sage,
Rooted within the lawn.

Rhodiola and Motherwort,
For respite from mental wear,
Passionflower bright and blue,
To soothe our minds from there.

Dandelion, grown as a bitter,
If the belly's function halts.
Senna, grown to make it quicker,
Have too much, it's not my fault!

The history contained within,
The vibrant colonial garden,
Gives us such means to treat our ills,
And to keep the Reaper's pardon.