Atop a great hill
A magic garden is blessed
To grow all year long.

Folk gather and laugh
Delighting in it’s beauty
Through winds, rain and snow.

At the great hill’s peak
A shack, the gardener’s home
Yet no one lives there.

On every wall
Grapevines climb up to the roof
Reaching for the sun.

The fruit that they bear
Grant long life and good fortune
Or so it is said.

But when the night falls
The sun fades and the grapes sour
Their scent travels far.

It draws those children
Who do not heed the warnings
To sleep when they’re told.

Hoping for a taste
They gather around the shack
And the vines reach down.

Grabbing hungrily
Small hands gather blood red fruit
Their feast is short lived.

In the children’s mouths
The grapes become dust and ash
As the garden strikes!

A new morning dawns
Grapevines reach up for the sun
Fresh grapes on their buds.

The fruits of the hill
May bear their magic blessings
But there is a price.

The garden’s bloodied
But the gardeners are thankful
For they have been fed.


One thought on “Haiku Horrors: The Gardeners

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