My Garden

I went into the garden,
To play upon my thoughts.
To think upon my acts and deeds,
For what the day had brought.

I had to find a haven,
That would do away with grind.
A place with no frustration,
To ease my troubled mind.

Primroses lined the pathway,
And formed a brilliant hedge.
Low daisies made a curtsy,
To pansies at the edge.

Birdies by the trellis,
Fluttered around the tree.
And made their lovely graces,
Just right for me to see.

The sprinkling of clear water,
Would hardly let me pass.
The air that stirred so freely,
Made fountains on the grass.

I found within my garden,
Needs for my heart and soul.
For magical powers of ointment,
Healed me...and made me whole.


E.P. 1908 - 1989