There’s a quiet place I love to go,

Where memories, like blossoms grow

And each memory is a petal sweet

That blooms forever in my retreat.

The seeds were planted long ago

Deep in the garden of my soul,

And each petal holds a special place

Reminding me of a special face.

In my garden are blossoms, Oh, so rare

And I tend to each with loving care,

For when days are dull, nights are weary

And life seems a little too dreary,

I can go and pick a lovely bouquet

From seeds planted along life’s way,

Turning my world into spring

And I wouldn’t exchange it for anything.

©Lora Cox

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