The Garden of Love

Love is a garden whose bounty feeds us well But if it is not tended can be a living hell This garden cannot prosper thru the efforts just of one No two must labor jointly for sharing of the fun Not time, distance, nor strife of life its power can they blight However should one or the other fail it produces endless night Love is a garden whose bounty feeds us well But if it is not tended can be a living hell The darkness in which we blunder is as a freezing rain Through our lack of effort we feel the depths of pain When we say the word of love we hear a muted bell When we view our field of love our garden is not well Love is a garden whose bounty feeds us well But if it is not tended can be a living hell Thunder of our moments echo loudly through our years The garden that did sustain us is watered by our tears How did it get so broken and strangled by the briars? Maybe in our private moment we whispered words of liars Love is a garden whose bounty can feed us well But if it is not tended turns to living hell. We’re burning…We are burning… We’re burning… We are burning.