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.