Thursday, February 19, 2015


Of every garden we may make a song
And in its lyrics there is no word wrong
Within its borders a soul finds peace
In nature's heart do our troubles cease
True we tame through sweat and toil
But nothing is sweeter than well tilled soil
So make your wish and thank the Gods
We are given a chance to break the sods
For of all the places I could ever be
I'll always take a garden seat next to thee