My Mothers empowered things to flower where no other plant had grew .

 

In the garden where blisters harden and there is so much work to do .

 

Her fingers were green and in between ,was the gardeners gift she bore   .

   

For hours each day she worked away ,

until her hands and knees were sore ..

 

In every clod she's close to God ,

There's a prayer for all that she plants .

 

With sunshine and her given time

Everything has got a real good chance  .

 

 

The family tree for Mother and me ,

Is somewhere we belong   .

 

Storms have come with no damage done

For in the garden shelter was strong .

 

In history , common ground is free .

an undestanding has to grow 

 

Here in a place , God sent his grace ,everything is a colourful show  . 

 

 

By Paul McCann

Originally Posted On Site: 2009-05-02 09:23:20
Last Login: 03.04.10

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