If This Were My Last Day

If this were my last day I'm almost sure I'd spend it working in my garden.
I would dig about my little plants, and try to make them happy,
so they would endure long after me. Then I would hide secure
where my green arbor shades me from the sky,
And watch how birds and bees and butterflies
Came hovering to every flowering lure.
Then, as I rested, perhaps a friend or two, Lover of flowers would
come and we would walk about my little garden
paths and talk Of peaceful times when all the world seemed true.
This may be my last day, for all I know;
What a temptation just to spend it so!