In my secret garden
In my secret garden the grass is green and lushAnd the leaves of the shrubs shine just like emerald And every flush-dawn, when the sun wakes with a blush, Sunshine arrives, with sweet songs that the birds herald.
In my secret garden red and pink roses bloom And blood red is the colour of camellias. The lilac blossoms spread their sweet scent of perfume, While sunflower-like sway colourful dahlias.
A placid brook runs into a calm azure lake, On its mirror surface white fleecy clouds reflect. By its shore, on green grass, I like to lie awake, Watching ripples that wings of dragonflies effect.
In my garden raindrops fall from azure blue sky And on the blades of grass like pearl drops hang the dew, Every leaf, every bloom is there to testify Of a Power that gives birth and lets all renew.
In my secret garden I blossom, come alive, The grass feels soft, like velvet, underneath my sole; Inside my secret garden my soul can revive… …My secret garden is… inside my heart and soul… When I pass and offer my soul to my Maker I’ll ask to scatter my ashes to feed the lawn, Allow only a white swan as a partaker Gently to glide across the lake at every dawn;
Let my garden remain a home for birds and flowers, Let white swans gather on the banks of placid stream, Let mellow bell ring out the passing hours And let me dream the dreams I was meant to dream.
©. P. J. Oszmann (2003)