My garden is a crazy quilt With neither rhyme nor reason I only know it holds a flower To bloom in every season Red Primrose vies with pastel pinks Bluebells with purple Aster I gather them in pottery jugs And hide the Alabaster I never show my garden To people stiff or proud It grows for those with zest and joy Who like to laugh aloud Whose hands reach wide for all of life It's sunshine and it's showers I take them to my garden And fill their arms with flowers