In the morning I see a gardener
Who tends her flowers and her gems
Her dog a sometimes partner
The sun a sometimes friend

She prunes the trees with care 
Though to me it seems too tough
For the branches no longer there
Lie in heaps upon the rough

But as the seasons grow and die
With weeks of storm and sun
Soon branches reach blue sky
In blooms profuse and fun 

Methinks it takes a heart
Of care and patient ken
To coax the seeds to start
To mix a glorious blend 

Of rampant shades of purple 
And tones of pink and rose
White jasmine that does encircle
A child’s sweet skipping flows

Her craft could lead to envy
For its tender love and care
And the happy winds that frenzy
Through her beds so full and fair 

But my time is not so jealous
And her blooms I so enjoy
I can only praise the trellis
And the trowel she does employ