The Gift That Keeps On Giving ~ My Garden


Words of wisdom about being close to the land:

My garden is my most beautiful masterpiece. -Claude Monet

Earth laughs in flowers. -Ralph Waldo Emerson

The greatest fine art of the future will be the making of a comfortable living from a small piece of land. -Abraham Lincoln

No occupation is so delightful to me as the culture of the earth, and no culture comparable to that of the garden. -Thomas Jefferson

Gardening is the purest of human pleasures. -Francis Bacon

Well, there you have it!  Wise men who knew many things knew that the garden is one of humanity’s most sacred places.

For me it is as well.  It gives me back as much, if not more, than I put in.  This is what my lovely garden blessed me with today.


Today’s Bounty

Above you can clearly see the Okra, big and small tomatoes, cantelope, watermelon, white cucumbers, bell peppers, and potatoes.

On the left are three types of beans (green beans, specialty purple bean and soybean) and calendula.  On the right are onions and two types of carrots (specialty white and traditional orange.)

The thinkers of the past were much more connected to the land than many Americans are today.  That is unfortunate.  Their wisdom however, still rings true.

Below is a poem I wrote about my love for my garden.  It’s my own way of expressing my love for the soil and all that God’s grand designs produce.


My hands are blistered,

red, deep and sore.

I’ve worked this shovel so hard,

until I want to work it no more.

The blisters are oozing,

my back’s starting to break.

But, no stopping for me,

until I finish this rake.

So tidy is she,

the garden is ready.

through shovel and hoe,

my work I keep steady.

I can’t stop now,

I’ll keep plow’n along.

This garden she deserves it,

I’ll just keep humming my song.

“Rise little garden, you fill me with delight.

Your food and your nourishment,

makes me feel right.

Your blessings you send,

in bounties galore.

I’ll keep weeding this garden,

until I fall flat on the floor.”

This ol’ lady am I,

now old and gray.

I look out at my garden,

and bless God for this day.

The children are gone.

Grand children are here.

How I reflect deep on my life,

when the children aren’t near.

My garden’s my paradise,

it reminds me of when,

our children were little;

digging their feet deeply in.

Dark soil, so rich,

their little feet were deep black.

How I’d bath them forever,

then throw them in the sack.

So many years in my garden,

the memories abound.

As if my children are still here,

in this garden surround.

Old lady in the garden,

I have found my resting place.

May God keep me going,

until I depart from space.

~ L. Davis


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