The sun was warm,
I went out in it,
To do a garden job
For just a minute.
But time spent in the garden
Has a different measure,
Because each thing touched and seen
Feels like a new-found treasure.
And so I planned and pruned,
Swept up leaves, and dug;
Planted out some cuttings,
And watched a busy lady bug.
The minutes quick-marched into hours
As garden minutes do.
There’s no sense in trying to count them,
When the day is sunny, and the sky is blue.
Then when my back began to ache
I just took a little rest,
But soon got back to work because
Garden hours simply are the best!
{here are some pics from my garden, current and past flowers}
Gold Medal
Leila May
He loves me, he loves me not
Dainty Alice
The Children’s Rose