The soil is rich
Rich with lingering memories
Of those I hold dear.
Fading or clear
Far and near
Echoing here
I tend my garden lovingly.

Tender and green
The shoots of new growth sprout
All year long.
Growing strong
Sing a song
Friends belong
My garden is never barren.

Sweet buds grow
Blossoming into flowers
Of friendship in bloom.
Sweet perfume
Senses consume
Lots of room
New guests are always welcome there.

Beautiful are
The fruits of my garden
Crafted of silver and gold.
New and old
Paths unfold
Tales retold
Rewarding is the fruitage of memory.

Your presence there
Is a precious gift, though you
Know it not.
A tender spot
In my thought
Ne'er forgot
I cherish my memory garden.