My garden is a quiet place
For me and me alone
So whether I plant, prune, or sit and think
The pleasure is all my own
Flowing through my garden
Are many treasured things
Blooms of radiant annuals
And rich evergreens
My garden requires a lot of time
And the caress of gentle hands
Along with rain, a kiss from the sun
A watchful eye it demands
My back has felt the fruits of labor
My hands have pruned the vines
Today I reap what yesterday was sown
And the pleasure is solely mine.