Morning came on butterfly wings
Flittering phosphorescent on the lawn
Trumpeting morning glories sang
Pink and purple colors to the dawn
Milk chocolate earth beneath the spade
Rich with heady musk of loam
Sculpted rows the hoe has made
Green plants in their garden home
Adam had Eden; gardens and orchards
Without the toil of his calloused hand;
Troves of apples and groves of oranges
For which he never worked the land
Fallen from grace, the gardener toils
For hours of sunshine, praying for rain
Working his soul back into the soil
Growing his heart and freeing his pain
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