The Gardener

You cannot plant weeds
in the garden of your soul
and await with eager face
the birth of a rose,
Plant your garden full of wholesome seeds,
of corn and wheat and pungent rye,
and flowers petaled red and blue,
and with care, by and by,
a tender bud will bloom,
Provided you sow not the ground,
with indifference, for then you ll know
that want of loving care strikes down,
the sweeter things you might have grown.

-Sharon C. Hawk

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