My Garden


My heart is a garden,
where the seeds of life are planted.
What I let grow there,
determines the harvest that I'm granted.

If I should let my garden,
go unattended.
Bitter weeds will flourish there,
the fruit of life is ended.

The tiny plants that are pushing through,
may be a smile upon your face.
And gratitude grows here,
to warm my garden with His grace.

I have a row of hope,
I hope I can share with my neighbors.
I have a row of faith,
that I will taste the fruit of my labors.
I have a row of love,
the essence of my life, planted there by God,
in the form of my wife.

This garden has been watered,
by both her tears and mine.
And it hasn't grown overnight,
but has taken quite sometime.

She has even grown to love the wild flowers,
that decorate the borders of my heart.
She thinks my silly garden,
is her master work of art.

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