The Garden

The Garden

My fingers itch
for the soil,
my body aches
but welcomes the toil
of digging in the earth
on a warm spring day

To plant the seeds, all in a row,
then sit back to watch
them grow,
'tis sheer heaven in a
comforting way

To feast upon one's bounty,
grown by thine own hand
is worth more than all the
riches found across the land

So grow ye herbs and lentils,
corn, wheat and peas too
and you will feed the Earth,
my friend, starting with you

Lynn West
(c) 2010