Monet's Garden

When it comes to syllables and meter, I find that some poems that would be quite beautiful and well-rendered become excessive. I think it's sometimes a matter of choosing the form or the poem. They can't always go together. Some are meant for each other, some are not. So some suggestions: <remove> {add}

My longing <words> lie{s} careless {on} your shoulder,
<soon> drawing down <upon> your strength {undone from} my head.
Oh how my eyes swoon dreamlike <through a warm blur> {as I wonder} -- I think something different could be used here.
{at} cotton lavender's still virgin bed.

I wake to scones and tea stirred with <a> pardon
of honey sweetened by the longing taste
you planted deep -- <and> now within my garden,
impatience is the ivy, chasing chaste.

<Soon> dusk will ply my garden with its glory
in poetry and prose -- now dare I chance
to listen for your voice reign in my story,
and sprinkle newborn seed {with it's} glance.

For only {when} day is night appearing
{does} sight of Monet's {art} swirl<s> our clearing.

...Just some thoughts to help with the editing process. I'm not sure how great my suggestions are overall, but I hope they're worth something.

~Emeya