Poem Photo.tiff

I worked the earth from simple grass into a pure delight,

My sweat was mixed with happiness, my worries they took flight.

A simple thing my flower bed that took my idle time,

A wondrous present to myself as the flowers bloomed sublime.

But flower beds like people will suffer from neglect,

You can't watch the weeds begin and say, “Oh what the heck.”

The insects come in numbers to chew their lives away,

You must keep constant vigil, and do it day by day.

I always thought they bloomed their best when something made me sad,

I'd sit beside those flowers, then I wouldn't feel so bad.

There are no words that I can write to say just how I feel,

But a flower bed for anyone, is a bridge with something real.

If you are sitting inside yourself and think that life's gone wrong,

Pick up a shovel, buy some seeds and tune into nature's song.

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