Rosemary sneaks into the garden

Rosemary sneaks into the garden
as the night grows tall and the walls around her harden
she tip-toes with her itsy-bitsy tinker-bell feet
into the night that charms her with a cherubic greet
she probably caught a whiff of homegrown thyme
or was frightened by the stale breath of briskly passing time
her folks wearily smile from above and whisper
if only we'd told her, she wouldn't be such a trickster
But it's alright so long as she doesn't know
let her frolic around in the dark till she has to go
at the first break of dawn,
with the silent notes of a perpetual yawn
she will go into a deep slumber,
lasting for many a moon, maybe even forever.