My Mother Kept a Garden poem

My Mother Kept a Garden poem

My Mother Kept a Garden poem

My Mother Kept a Garden

My mother kept a garden
A garden of the heart
She planted all the good things
That gave my life its start
She turned me to the sunshine
And encouraged me to dream
Fostering and nurturing
The seeds of self-esteem
And when the winds and rain came
She protected me enough
But not too much because she knew
I’d need to stand up strong and tough
Her constant good example
Always taught me right from wrong
Markers for my pathway
That will last a lifetime long
I am my mother’s garden
I am her legacy
And I hope today she feels the love
Reflected back from me.

(author unknown)

I work to amplify good wherever I find it. I love color, texture, beauty, great ideas, nature, metaphor, deliciousness, genuine spirituality, and exploring new territory. I encourage authenticity, nurture creativity, champion sustainability, promote peace, and hope to foster a new renaissance where we all are free to be our most fulfilled, multifaceted, and terrific selves. Read more here.


  1. LOREE A. OGAN 3 years ago


  2. Sue Krevitt 3 years ago

    Polly, you are BLOOMING
    In the Light of our Divine Mother,

    Thank you for reflecting
    This beautiful, nurturing-love,
    For the world needs, so needs,
    This Mothering!

    Have the loveliest Day, my friend!

  3. Susan 3 years ago

    Simply beautiful❣️

  4. Mary Jo Beebe 3 years ago

    The lovely poem describes my mom. And the flowers are lovely, too! What are they?

    • Author
      Polly Castor 3 years ago


  5. Kristie 3 years ago

    And your garden bears much fruit.

  6. Jeanne Carmichael 12 months ago

    I am the “Unknown Author” of the My Mother Kept a Garden poem. I wrote it for my mother’s birthday many years ago, and had it inscribed on a plaque as a birthday gift to her. Years later, I discovered her poem had been marketed for sale without my knowledge. My dear mother has passed away now, but her loving legacy lives on through her six children and twelve grandchildren. Her name was Marie Richard. God bless her sweet soul.

    • Author
      Polly Castor 12 months ago

      It is truly wonderful. Do we have your permission to have it remain here? Thank you for reaching out. My mother kept a garden too! Such a blessing.

    • Clair Whitaker 7 months ago

      I am so sorry to see that your beautiful words have been commercialised without your approval. I stumbled across the poem when looking for an appropriate, meaningful poem to read at my mum’s funeral. She passed away last week aged 93 & her garden had been her life. I will not read the poem at the funeral now, but if you would be so kind to allow me to keep it in my phone, I will read it often & think of her.

      • Author
        Polly Castor 7 months ago

        I think you could even use for the funeral with proper attribution.

    • Patrick Meyer (ASCAP) 4 weeks ago

      When did you write your poem? In 2006 I had written music to the text of the poem. The poem was on display in a frame at my aunt’s funeral, and upon reading it, the music immediately came to me. So I sang it acapella in her honor. I’m in the process of sending it to a publisher…so I need any documentation (permission) to use your poem.

  7. Ken Bing 8 months ago

    Thank you!
    January 11, 2012 my/our mother went to be with her Lord and Savior. She was 90 years old and had passed away from dementia. I know from growing up and my siblings (8), mother was an avid gardener her entire life. When I was younger her garden was enormous, likely 200+ feet by 50+ feet. We lived on a small west Michigan hobby farm with all the common farm animals one might expect. Our mother’s garden was filled from one end to the other with every kind of vegetable and fruit that flourished in the west Michigan weather. With (9) children there were many mouths to feed and her garden and our farm animals were our main source of food. With a meager amount of funds she would also plant a very small amount of flowers at one end of her garden. There wasn’t a day gone by mother wasn’t tending to her garden with the exception of Sunday’s. As the years passed and one by one we left the farm and struck out on our own. Each year with and fewer mouths to feed, my mother’s garden slowly changed. Changing from a food source to a source of beauty and enjoyment. Mother planted every variety of flower possible, until it was no longer recognizable from our youth. She received such joy from her garden, children, grandchildren and great grandchildren. At her funeral, I was the sibling to speak on behalf of the others. In preparation for the funeral, one, or two, of my sisters came across your poem. We all agreed that it was the epitome of our mother and should be read aloud at the funeral service. As I read It and as was as one might expect, not one of us kept a dry eye. I write to you at this time following my morning devotions, and holding a laminated book divider of your poem, made by one sister, for each of us. So, from all of us to you, we thank you for your beautiful poem, as it was shared with all and to this day, it gives us great comfort and joy.

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