My soul is like a garden
Where marjoram and lilac grow,
Where soft the scent of long ago
Over the border lightly blows.
Where sometimes homing winds at play
bear the faint fragrance of a rose.
My soul is like a garden
because you chanced to pass my way.Poem by Thomas S. Jones
Thank you Anne Marie for inviting me to your
Disguise Fete.
I had a wonderful time at the party!!!
xo
Carole
