The lady, the gentleman and the garden

Part One: My Lady in the Garden

It was filled with flowers,
our garden of you and me.
The view was fine indeed,
lost in sanctuary beauty.

No space to dance or sway,
too little for our likely.
But far space for butterflies,
to cast their colourful amity.

You should had donned-
your fancy white garment,
fashioned by flower garland-
to usurp this mild moment.

Too long I retain a
question from spilling.

Now’s the time to spill-
as this moment are appealing.

Mayhap our love has ended,
at least mine are in till.

I withstand before you,
with fair love to hold still.

I fall on my knees and I feebly cry,
reasking the stone graving your name-
“Why do you have to stop and die?”