is a poem by Margaret Ingall, who has a love of gardening and nature, which I hope you’ll all like.
I may not be a sculptor
Who chisels works of art,
I may not be a painter
Whose brush strokes touch the heart.
I may not use a pencil
With talent or prowess
I may not yield a crayon
With guaranteed success.
But if you see my garden
You’ll surely know it’s true
With a little help from heaven
I’ve a masterpiece on view.
Beautiful poem! Hoping you are having a fabulous holiday season Flighty! Kind regards, Allison
Allison hello, and many thanks. Take care. xx
I love it
Cath me too. xx
Yes, gardens are masterpieces, though I often think the gardener has only a very small part!
Nikki I agree on both counts. xx
Wish I had such confidence!
Lucy me too. xx
That is beautiful and very true, I think all gardens are masterpieces as no two are ever the same the world over.xxxxx
Snowbird you’re so right. xx
A lovely poem. I wish my garden were a masterpiece, it looks more like a swamp at the moment.
Jo it sure is. My plot is a very bleak masterpiece at present. xx
A true gardener’s poem, which I enjoyed!
Glo me too! xx
I think my garden has a ways to go before it approaches masterpiece level, if it ever gets there! But nice sentiment.
Janet one day! True. xx