Like Father, Like Son
For a flier to guide you through the bower.
Walk through the rustic wooden arbor
Enjoying the plants that gardeners barber.
Look at the intricate armillary sphere
That tells where the stars in the sky are near.
Rest a moment on the bench of stone
Where the flowers round it have grown.
Down the pathway, cross a bridge that’s nigh
And covers the stones that keep the path dry.
Pass under the trellis covered with a flower
Turn southward to seek the stone that made flour.
On the edge of the garden there’s a stone out of place
That once belonged in a mill race.
Find the hole where the gear used to wind
And see what you can find as you reach in behind.