Deep within the sanctuary
Of ourselves there is a glade,
Where the grass is always greenest,
And the flowers never fade.
Nowhere is a garden sweeter,
Than the one love's own hands tend,
Where affection falls like sunlight,
Warming and awakening.
Everlasting are the blossoms,
That are nourished in the heart,
Little lights and little shadows,
Who can tell the two apart?
He who plants the smallest kindness,
Sows indeed a mighty seed,
For through years, like little acres,
...Only love uproots the weed!
Grace E. Easley
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