garden gnome

 
mounted in the surest
of a simple request,
her cuteness hinted by only pink
and so I think,
what would a garden gnome do?
What? would a garden gnome do,
if cast into the unknown,
all alone,
in the refuge of seeds, he had sown.
as if, Johnny Appleseed
dusted off his cap
from which he wore
in the wee moments of his dreamy nap.
sprinkle softly the drops of rain
heat upon the breast
from the tongue, a faint caress.
such hidden, the would-be passion
as the stroke of a loving hand
helping to whisk away
any remembrance of a day's pain.
How does one ever know?
what he so wants.....
if it is not, let to grow.