The walls around Are stone and thick. No crack to be found In mortar or brick. But if one can find The sturdy gate Tucked behind Out of sight. Then search for A golden key Which few before Have ever found. If that precious key Is at last held Then might be see What is beyond. A garden filled with gold With colors bright and bold. Untidy wildflowers be Blooming far as eye can see. The weeping tree Grown in adversity Leaf out shade Across the glade. Some plants grow In orderly row While others dwell Around the Dell. With tender care The Gardener there Does plant seeds And pulls the weeds. It's beautiful there In bloom and bare The summer effloresced And the winter for deep rest. So if you gain a glimpse Of faithful Providence Of the garden there below A gift to you bestow.
Beautiful poem