The Garden's Fee Poem by cheryl davis miller

I planted a garden
a thing of beauty.
Each plant placed with forethought
and love tenderly.

I watered and pruned it
fed it cautiously.
Carefully arranged my
garden symphony.

One day it had grown to
full capacity.
It was time to un-robe
my thing of beauty.

So long I'd tended it
down on bended knee.
When finished there were none
to view it with me.

I realized sadly
my garden's true fee;
had taken my whole life
and left me lonely.

A gardens for sharing
with one's family;
else there are none to view
your work of beauty.

c.d.m.6 / 5/ 16