From Deer to Poetry

Fiorella went out on the porch to pick up the newspaper and spotted two does and two fauns in el parke. They froze and stared at her.  Fio froze and stared back. Your girl couldn't help but coo at the foursome and, to her amazement, their ears twitched as if they were trying to understand what she was saying. Fio scurried inside to get her camera, but when she checked the yard again, her visitors were gone. 😕
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The editor of Fiorella's high school graduating class's monthly was, Fio assumes, a journalism major, but your Fiorella is not happy with the editing she did in the cleverly-written feature that your girl submitted about her post-high school life. Apparently cleverness is not in style anymore.
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You won't believe this, but a hard core of said graduating class is planning to go ahead with the pre-planned reunion scheduled for October. Nothing like teasing fate.
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This poem seems appropriate right now. It's an old one that I've improved on.

 I must tidy up my garden 
 And plant new flower beds,
I must water all the roses
And trim the privet hedge

I must cover up the marks of
Intruders in the night,
I must rake the footprints smooth
In my garden of delight

I must bury all the old dreams
And hide them from my view
So when I clear the trespass
I can plant my dreams anew



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