Down by a babbling brook I sat,
Watched as it rippled by, I caught a glimpse of a shadow, of an eagle that soared the sky. On the edge of the brook, where I was sitting, Were flowers that nature had sewn. Their reflection at the edge of the water, Was enhanced by the sunbeam that shown. |
I was charmed by the beauty around me,
The aura gave my soul a repose, I was closer to Eden, surrounding me, And the fragrance was perfume to my nose. There's nothing as beautiful as nature, When you put her in perspective of view, For God is the creator of everything, And nature is the reflection of His hue. |
![]() |
![]() |
Flower's bloom most everywhere,
For the earth is God's garden, you know, And His mystical way of planting, By the birds and the bees and the wind, that sow. The sun and clouds and rain that nourish, And the earth to feed the seed, So all of God's creation, can live in harmony, Even with the unwanted weed. Written by L M Wilson |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
God's Garden is not really a place where flowers grow. It is a place where we grow.
It is where all of us are right now. We are in this garden from the time we are born
until the time we go home to God. Hopefully in life we will grow in the right direction.
That direction is toward God, because for the same reason, we are on our way home to God. It will be a rough journey and growing is usually a pretty painful process. Our lives here are not about what we are going to get. Our lives here are about what we are going to give. And not about the love we received but the love that we gave. Remember to scroll along safely through the garden and be very careful not to step on any of the other flowers. And by all means please feed the birds along the way. |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
LLM Willson has more beautiful poetry
on his website. Please drop by for a visit. You will be happy that you did! www.oocities.org/lmwillson |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |