The Flower Garden

A poem by Lillian Curtis describes the flower garden and each flower that grows. Also, the verses express what happens when the garden is no longer tended to.


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The Flower Garden
by Lillian E. Curtis


Ah! hers was a bright and cheery place,
A quiet, secluded little spot,
Where, with her little flock around her,
She had a cheerful, happy lot.

Each one of her little flock
Bore the name of some flower;
And training her tender plants,
She spent many a happy hour.

There was Rose, and her name
Was appropriately her own,
For scarlet cheeks and lips
Were like roses fully blown.

And Daisy, with her drooping form
And eyes of violet blue,
And her long and heavy curls,
Of a lovely golden hue.

And Lily, with her petite figure
And eyes of limpid brown,
And a face so fair and sweet,
That seldom, if ever, was known to frown.

And Blossom, with her childish face
And merry winning smile.
And her innocent little ways,
With never a thought of guile.

And then there was a boy
And his name was Pink,
He was the youngest of them all,
At least, so I think.

But the garden grew thinner and thinner,
The flowers all dropped away,
And the spot where the garden was,
Is a lonesome place to-day.

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