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When the Lord takes a walk in his garden,

He surveys all the beauty around,

There are so many beautiful flowers,

Colours that carpet the ground.

In one corner of the garden,

Protected from wind and storm,

Are Gods little Children?

Just waiting to be born.

He decides when they are ready,

To be born upon this earth,

He will choose their parents,

The mother to give birth.

He then will pick that flower,

Then send it on its way,

To experience the material world,

On which that child will stay.

So remember when you see a new born child,

It came from the Lord with love,

For its parents to love and cherish,

Sent from the Lords garden above.

Malcolm G Bradshaw     

About poetreecreations

I am an author writer publisher web administrator I run poetry workshops in the community. My published Manners childrens poetry book can be found at

One response

  1. We are all seeds and the garden you speak of so endearingly, is our souls (The Shack, by William P. Young) that needs to be nourished.


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