Author's Note: I am spending all of November in Switzerland, so all of my post from now till the end of the month will be the inspiration I have from the beauty of Switzerland. Today's post was inspired by the painted leaves that adorn many of the trees in Switzerland this time of year.
This is a gardener's account of seeing a tree he planted in his younger years thirty years later.
I was taken back by the sight of her; adorned all fit and fine. Her hair was pulled back gently with a couple strands on display. Her painted face, lips, and hands were raised. As if to say, "Come to me." A gold chain was draped around her neck. A glittering ring on her finger did laugh. Jewels hung in array from her ears. A yellow lace shirt trimmed her bosom. While along brown and green skirt draped from her sides. Her feet lay bare on an orange carpet. La leather purse hung from her wrist. Her tone was like a song. Her movement was that of a queen. Maids of waiting were to her left and right, for her bid and call.
Amazed was I by her beauty, none like it I had seen. She had grown tall and flowered more than I ever dreamed. I remember her soiled and young; a bothersome child she was. Now she's all dainty, clean, and grown up with a court of her own. I used to be her keeper, I looked after her and tended her. I watered when she was thirsty, trimmed her when she grew two fast. Till I became quite ill. Then I left her without her ever knowing why. For thirty years I wondered every night if she ever survived. Now that I am well and can see her with my own eyes. I see a beautiful maid before me. A woman I can be proud of.
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