Nahnah’s Garden
© 1992 by Michael Francis Iott, BMI

When this old world looks tired and worn,
And nothing seems to fit.
It’s time to go where hope is reborn,
And relax in Nahnah’s Garden.

All the flowers grow where they will.
They just bloom where they’re planted.
And the bees, in the hot summer air,
Make the songs for Nahnah’s Garden.

Bare feet on the rich earth,
Bare souls seeking new birth,
Open hearts to an open sky,
Gales of laughter floating by.

When you’re tired and you want to go home,
And you’re not sure where that is,
Take a break from your journey alone.
And just rest in Nahnah’s Garden.