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Edgar Guest - Living Flowers
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"I`m never alone in the garden," he said. "I`m
    never alone with the flowers.
It seems like I`m meeting the wonderful dead
    out here with these blossoms of ours.
An` there`s never a bush or a plant or a tree, but
    somebody loved it of old.
An` the souls of the angels come talkin` to me
    through the petals of crimson an` gold.

"The lilacs in spring bring the mother once more,
    an` she lives in the midsummer rose.
She smiles in the peony clump at the door, an`
    sings when the four o`clocks close.
She loved every blossom God gave us to own, an`
    daily she gave it her care.
So never I walk in the garden alone, for I feel
    that the mother`s still there.

"These are the pinks that a baby once kissed,
    still spicy with fragrance an` fair.
The years have been long since her laughter I`ve
    missed, but her spirit is hovering there.
The roses that ramble and twine on the wall were
    planted by one that was kind
An` I`m sure as I stand here an` gaze on them all,
    that his soul has still lingered behind.

"I`m never alone in the garden," he said, "I
    have many to talk with an` see,
For never a flower comes to bloom in its bed, but
    it brings back a loved one to me.
An` I fancy whenever I`m bendin` above these
    blossoms of crimson an` gold,
That I`m seein` an` hearin` the ones that I love,
    who lived in the glad days of old."
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