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Rated: E · Poetry · Religious · #2326971
A descriptive stroll through the Garden Of Eden. No longer forbidden but allowed.
         There once was a garden that was planted by God.
It was bountiful and beautiful and its smell was so nice.
April was the beginning of the year and the season was called Spring.
Inside this great garden that God did make,
was everything that God had made.


There were rows and hills of Apple tree orchards,
the apricot trees blossoms were as white as the snow.
There were fruiting trees of peach, pear and plum;
with blossoms of pink that covered each one.

There were cherry blossoms and orange blossoms and lemon as well.
There were lime and tangerine blossom, as snow flurries, that fell.
All the fruiting tree flower petals swirled thick in the air.
Making such a day all the more fair.

All throughout this garden there were pathways and walkways and step ways and roads;
growing right beside them was the beautiful rose.
What a flower what a gem... not even one thorn can be found on its stem.

The Garden path continued on with every fruit tree God ever made;
each one full of blossoms each one in full bloom.
What a sight, what storm, raining down such a mess;
Unique was this blizzard of sweet and softness.

There was the sound of the buzz of the bees in the breeze.
Such a nice way to walk under the trees.
As one followed the path, onward it led,
they came to a view of a field just ahead;
Where wild fresh grasses sweetened the air,
how they grew tall but that wasn't all;
they swayed in the wind,
like a land ocean bed,
and they spoke
or so I thought
I could almost hear what they said.

Growing nearby was fruit
made to lay down and be fed.
The wild strawberries were huge and so red.

The flower covered meadows
all colorful and diverse,
swayed in the wind
like an orchestrated dance in rehearse.

The Bluebells swayed in blue ocean waves.
The Gold dust flowers dotted each hill
with a hue of golden haze.

The only flower to grow under the Judas tree
is the Bleeding Heart's flower
dripping with dew.

Somethings will hold onto
what is true.
Such a symbolic place for life,
this garden God grew.

As you wander through each meadow,
the flowers blend from red to orange,
then yellow to green,
green to blue, blue to purple
then back to red.

Not one thing that grows here is dead.
Nor can it die.

I love God The Father whom created all things.
I believe in His Son whom died for our sins.
One day I will see God face to face.
One day I will live in a beautiful place.







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