Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Nov 2011
A garden I planted one day,
full of flowers in colors arrayed.
But, as the hours went by
I wondered when these
would rise?

Impatient, I dug them up
and said,
"why have you not grown?"

Then, I planted again
patience was not in my hand.
The hours went by and
I began to sigh
when these would rise.

Impatient, I dug them up
and said, "when, when, when
do your begin?"

But, what I failed to see
in the deep darkness
of the earth, God's quiet working
would soon give birth.

And I held my hands
folding them in His plan.
His timing not mine,
His will, not mine.

Allison AshtonΒ©
Allison Ashton
Written by
Allison Ashton
685
   Shanekwa
Please log in to view and add comments on poems