Rocks and stones,
Gathering together,
Yet alone.

The hard earth was dark and rich,
Withholding;
And locked in small patches which
The fields of rock were the more,
Enfolding
Just the brush and scrub before,
Torn that crop of rock to walls
Releasing,
Rows where grows man’s hunger calls.

Pushed pulled lifted and rolled away,
The stones were,
Dug and levered many days
Till finally earth revealed
Where stones were,
A garden that was concealed.