I come to my little garden.

            Where I find some sweet solace and rest.

            There seems always to be;

            

            Soil to turn over.

            Flowers to gently water.

            Trees to prune and tend.

            

            And as I get down on my knees,

            I look from time to time heavenwards,

            And thank you Lord for;

            

            The richness of the Earth.

            The beauty of the Rose.

            The shade of the Trees.
               
            M J Flack