Tears Are Summer Showers To The Soul.

Faded Smiles Oft Linger In The Face, While Grief's First Flakes Fall Silent On The Heart!

In Vain Would Science Scan And Trace Firmly Her Aspect. All The While, There Gleams Upon Her Far-off Face A Vague Unfathomable Smile.

When Held Up To The Window Pane, What Fixed My Baby Stare? The Glory Of The Glittering Rain, And Newness Everywhere.

If Nature Built By Rule And Square, Than Man What Wiser Would She Be? What Wins Us Is Her Careless Care, And Sweet Unpunctuality.

The Glory Of Gardening: Hands In The Dirt, Head In The Sun, Heart With Nature. To Nurture A Garden Is To Feed Not Just On The Body, But The Soul.