What sort more can love grow?
Natures purity in gardens
When that love meets lowly
I have woken to till and burrow
Not the soil far away
But you behind my back,
But one close and bushy.
Surrendering all that i am
Each sun rise and set,
I take all that you are, my garden.
So that if i am no more,
For someday i will be.
You will yet be in your tenderness
A mark and memory of what we share
What we yet will share and have shared.
Memory of ages beyond time.
Under the wet yellow moon,
At due fall and crickets chirp.
I praise in my tent,
That at morning break,
I am eager to feel the chills with you.
My abode, my companion, my heaven.