Mom's Garden

Before I learned
To read or write,
I'd bring her flowers
I thought she'd like;
Some pansies from
Her garden bright,
Or a blossom from our tree;

I'd find such wonders
On my way,
And I was sure
That she would say,
How beautiful! and never mind
A few holes in her garden,
Here and there;

She seemed to know
The joy I felt,
And knew just how my
Heart would melt,
To see her smile
Then hug me tight,
And plant a kiss,
In pure delight!

The fanciest flowers
Could not compare
To the seeds of joy
That she planted there;
Her garden of kindness
I'll tend with care,
And water it daily
With laughter and prayer.
Edie Batstone