(A poem of passion and prayer)
There's a garden near, that's secret and hidden, I meet my Lover there.
The joys that we share, are lovely and fair, and never, no, never, forbidden.
My garden is green, and I rest near the stream, where my Lover sings songs so sweet.
My heart skips a beat, while I sit at His feet, hearing songs meant only for me.
My garden is hidden, in my soul, so forgiven; my Love bids me enter there.
His Name on my lips, feels much like a kiss, and sweeter than honey to me.
"Jesus," I whisper, "My Love, my Redeemer. I love you so much." Then I cry.
Strong arms enfold me, then He speaks so softly, "Meet me in the Garden, tonight."