Mostly every well kept garden that has garnered attention by it's tenders has a statue or other standing piece. They are there when spring comes and go through summers hot and lazy days. Surrounded by color of the flowers they give company to. They stay through the fall surrounded by the browning of the surrounding weeds and dying flowers. They sit there under winter snow. They become a permanent fixture. In some cases a personality. This is poem about one I know.
Little Donkey Pancho
Little donkey by the wall,
It can not even walk or crawl,
There it stands white and gray,
On it's sides two tubs of hay,
In the tubs some flowers grow,
The ones that stay really low,
Not a sound does it make,
Because you know plaster's fake
But it looks as it can talk,
Maybe it can even walk,
Did it say what you just heard,
Then you think how absurd,
The you take another peek,
Trying hard to catch it speak,
What it says not with a sound,
Rather with a look does hound,
With it's silence it is saying,
Better this than me a braying.
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