Skip to main content

The Gardener

Ang Cat's post, A Variant Garden, reminded me of this poem that I wrote many years ago.

Precious flower in God's garden
He has placed you in my care
Bid me water you with kindness
And to nurture you with prayer
Tell you of the gentle Gardener
With his hands all scarred with love
How we'll live one day forever
In his garden up above
And though weeds may try to choke you
And your head be bowed by storm
In his tender care he'll guard you
Ever keeping you from harm

Belinda

Comments

Brenda said…
Absolutely lovely! Thanks for sharing it.
Belinda said…
Thank you Brenda!
With love,
Joyful Fox said…
That's beautiful. Your garden, Belinda is so well-tended. Thank you for tending this flower my friend.

Blessings!
Shawna said…
I love this. I am so drawn to poetry, and it was beautifully written.

Popular posts from this blog

Just Joy!

Our family has a standing date for Sunday dinner on the first Sunday of every month. Not that we don't see each other at any other time, but we all know that particular Sunday is pretty much for sure--and I look forward to it so much--the front door bursting open and our house being filled once more with the voices and vibrancy of six grandchildren and their parents. 

This week Spero, Brenda's new Australian Shepherd puppy came too, and met his extended family, leaving Molson at home to have a rest! He was duly adored by all of us.


He came with a dazzling array of toys and is proving a fast learner, already sitting on command and responding to Tori's training. I was so impressed at her technique of quickly rewarding a turnaround from any slight naughtiness with praise for "good sitting," or "good" any other desirable behaviour! 

Tippy had her hair cut stunningly and bravely short the day before; making a statement about who she is as a unique individual, o…

The Secret Adventures of Susan's Scottish Scarf

By Belinda (with a lot of help from Susan :))
I was saying goodnight to her at the front door this week when she told me. There was apparently more to the scarf around her neck than I knew. 
The scarf had been a gift from me for Susan's birthday on Tuesday December 18th. It had been her 60th; and that day I had treated her to lunch to celebrate. 
We met at a tiny restaurant, Port Soiree, in Schomberg,near her office. It was a restaurant neither of us had been to before and it turned out to be a gem, with artsy ambiance, amazing food, wonderful service and modest pricing. In other words, it was perfect!