Envy
In amongst the fruit
of my garden
And there it took root
Whilst I looked blithely away
and tended elsewhere.
Now I behold the blossom,
and smell its pungent odor,
and am ashamed
that I neglected this weed in its youth,
for now I find
in every corner
small, green tendrils,
like emerald serpents,
coiled and twisted about the stems of
my fair flowers and fruit trees.
What name shall I give thee,
Tormenter of my labors?
Envy, for you have choked the
Joy I took in my garden.
There is not a place I can go,
not one of my fruits is free of you.
Because of your presence
I weary of life
and if the King should
stop by my house today
I should die of shame if He
bear witness to my complacency,
see the fruit of my disposition.
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