Beauty’s Shy

We all have imperfections,
Blemishes, asymmetries;
Which very few may catch,
But are to us, calamities.

Typically, it’s those among us
Quick to point, and cause unease,
Who also harbor most
These types of insecurities.

They hope that their diversions
Will distract from their own flaws —
And so attack the unsuspecting,
Who’ve given no cause

For such behavior. Nontheless,
The truth is clear and full:
That beauty’s shy; it always flees
From those too
Critical

Quiet Garden

Within this quiet garden
I wait to hear a sound;
But there is no one coming,
There’s no one else around

The flowers are so lovely,
The trees are lush and downy,
There is no finer garden
Anywhere in this whole county

And although days like this are rare,
The rarest thing of any,
Is why we keep things to ourselves
When we are blessed
With plenty