Peace of Mind: A Little Garden Poem

Turn out at six on a still June morning.
That's the hour, with the dew sheeting
the grass, and no one but the birds busy.
Five o'clock may be better if the weather
is hot and fair. This is one of the mystery
hours in a garden, when the sunlight
comes slantingly, and strikes upon the
wet and brilliant colors, and everything
is still. You are alone. Your garden is
yours and with it the whole world.
Not a voice to be heard...you are alone
with beauty, an impersonal and strange
beauty, a something that heals the heart
of your restlessness.
For {we} need to be alone sometimes;
and flowers ask no questions.

~Warwick Deeping

Happy Gardening!!
Pammy