Walk along the garden

Spikey, warm trees all different

Scents I smell, all different forms I see,

The colours are all different non of them seem to be identical.

Some are rough, some are gentle, some smell like my tea, some are sweet, some don’t smell so nice at all.

Pointy, enormous, teeny, straight, flimsy so many different feels.

All the flowers are calling to me my senses are overwhelmed

The garden in which I see.