Once a Garden
Once a garden dared to grow,
Despite the heat; despite the snow.
It paid no mind to wind, or rain,
And every spring would grow again.
Then came the spring it did not grow—
No one knew the reason, though.
Some said the garden was too old;
Still others blamed it on the cold.
But I believe it lost the will
To tend the rose, or the daffodil.
Loneliness, I believe is why—
For a garden needs a passerby.
It needs someone to smile and say:
“How glad I am I passed this way!”
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