Sunday Gardener

I did not go to church today,
To worship in a formal way;
And yet, I did not Him deny.

For cathedral dome I had blue sky,
The breezes whispered, gently soft,
Like music from an organ loft.

Chapel chimes, the bluebells rang,
and in the trees, bird choirs sang.
The sun in benediction shone,
As tho ‘twere blessing me alone,

And as I knelt and tilled the sod,
I had communion with god.
I cannot think He’d be dismayed,
He too, once in a garden prayed.