I have a bench on the side of my house and I can put my feet up on the ledge of the garden. As I sit there and drink my tea, little by little each head comes out from hiding and they all gather near my feet for a a treat. I wrote a little poem about the garden.
The Turtle Garden
In my yard there is a gate and beyond that gate is a little bit of heaven.
As I walk through the gate, I leave all my troubles behind. I am not afraid or anxious.
I sit on the bench, in the shade, and put my feet up on the small stone ledge.
The fragrant smell of flowers, of all different colors and species, surround me as I sip my tea.
Now I am at peace.
After a while I see a tiny head peaking out from under a hosta plant. From under a moss covered log, I see another little familiar face. Little, by little they all come out to see if I have a treat for them.
This is the Turtle Garden. A happy place. There is peace and beauty here in this garden.
On a hot Summer day I can always find one or two sitting under a plant, or chasing mosquito lava, in the cool waters of the small pond.
Each little inhabitant has a distinct personality and purpose. Some are bold and unafraid. Some are anxious and untrusting. One is possessive of her garden, and does not tolerate strangers here. Some are timid and shy.
But they all have the one thing in common. They are loved. They are home, here in the Turtle Garden.
@terryo can I have your permission to copy this and frame it this for my room? I still love this poem.