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Flower Garden by Janet Martin Oh, the flowers in her garden cheer the weary mother's heart When she bids her chores sweet pardon and she sets an hour apart Just to bask in perfumed glory of the purples, pinks and blues And to breathe in all the splendor of a thousand different hues Oh the flowers in her garden brighten up dear mother's hours For what is quite as pleasant as a garden full of flowers? When a bed of budding promise bursts into most glorious bloom Triumph after showers in sweet nature's living-room Oh, the flowers in the garden when we're bowed low in sorrow A precious, loving symbol of fair hope in some tomorrow For the bud that blooms, then fades and dies all scattered on the ground Will plant a seed that blooms again when spring-time comes around Oh, the flowers in the garden, a picture of man-kind Where youth blooms for a season then is left so far behind Til the Master of this garden calls us to His world on high Where we'll dwell within a garden where the flowers never die |
This poem may be use within Christian ministries for any non-profit purpose without requesting permission.