The flowers stand on proud stalks
There where my Savior walks.
And they open their petals for Him to see
Their long lasting fragrance and beauty.



I cannot see His flowing robes of white
But I know there in my garden is Holy light.
For every flower He touches may
I know be lovelier the next day.



Like in the garden of Gethsemane
He prays where no one can see,
But I know He prays in my garden fair,
Because all the flowers bow their heads in prayer.



Whenever I feel the need to restore my soul,
I pray in the garden for He can make me whole.
Worry, sorrow and all life's troubles
Seem to melt away like soap bubbles.


For my Jesus knows I love him so much.
I await his tender touch,
Time will fly by and the appointed day
will come for us to meet I pray,

Face to face in this special place,
He will walk me through the garden gate.

© Carol (Cali) Oliver