~A POEM FOR MOTHER'S DAY

MY MOTHER'S GARDEN

by Alice E. Allen

Her heart is like her garden,

Old-fashioned, quaint and sweet,

With here a wealth of blossoms,

And there a still retreat.

Sweet violets are hiding,

We know as we pass by,

And lilies, pure as angel thoughts,

Are opening somewhere nigh.

Forget-me-nots there linger,

To full perfection brought,

And there bloom purple pansies

In many a tender thought.

There love's own roses blossom,

As from enchanted ground,

And lavish perfume exquisite

The whole glad year around.

And in that quiet garden--

The garden of her heart--

Songbirds are always singing

Their songs of cheer apart.

And from it floats forever,

O'ercoming sin and strife,

Sweet as the breath of roses blown,

The fragrance of her life.

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