Email Poem

Your IP Address: 18.190.154.24
Your Email Address:
To Email Address:
Subject
Personal Note:
Poem Title:
Poem
"Gardener Of Love"

I'm not rich with money
And be, I never will
For it's not a path I've chosen
Nor in my garden, till.

Other things matter most
And always will to me,
Things born of Love 
Our eyes can never see.

Only a humble heart
Can in their heart sow
The seeds producing flowers
Of Love to then only grow.

There is no room for ego;
There is no room for hate,
Nor for greed and selfishness,
With Love inside a garden's gate.

When we plant the seeds of Love,
It's a priceless, worthy toil,
Since all opposing weeds 
Are then banished from our soil.

All the weeds of traits
Upon which the ego feeds,
Will have nowhere to germinate,
Where Love is all that breeds.

As with any garden growing,
There's a need for rays of sun,
But too, there must be rain
For growing to be done.

As better gardeners we become,
We learn that toil and pain
We must endure and overcome,
If we hope to harvest gain.

When we fertilize with kindness,
With compassion and with care,
With empathy and forgiveness,
We'll have lots of Love to share.

As our garden grows in riches
That can't be by money bought,
Only those with weedy gardens will
Resent us for what they haven't got.

Blessings we tend to overlook
And not realised, hence, before,
Love gives us the vision to see
How blessed we are and more.

Then for our many blessings,
With gratitude, we garnish
Our garden with more beauty,
To polish, instead of tarnish.

In the process of our growing
We learn what matters most,
That humility and modesty
Trumps ego within us to host.

We learn money and possessions 
Are at best barely secondary
And cultivating traits of Love
Are foremost, first, and primary.

We learn that contentment
And a peaceful state of mind,
Brings happiness and joy
That by money we can't find.

We learn that our wants
Become then less and less;
As long as our needs are met,
Our life reaps happiness.

When our needs are met
Is when we have enough;
Is when we feel contentment,
With no want for other stuff.

I'm not rich with money
And be, I never will
But my garden's rich with Love,
Since Love I choose to till.

I'm not rich with money;
It matters not to me,
For I'm a Gardener Of Love,
As God wants me to be.

Written by Artsieladie/Sharon Donnelly 
©2018-09-28 11:48:00 (EDT)
All rights reserved.
CAPTCHA Preview
Type the characters you see in the picture
Required