After a storm it breaks the heart to see the damage done in the garden,
Flowers once straight and lovely in the sun,
Lie bent and battered to the earth, stalks broken, stakes askew,
Petals scattered all around,
A sorry sight to view,
We have to set to work to tie them up again,
And so in life when some event brings havoc in its train,
It's no good moaning, though of every hope you seem bereft,
You have to set to work to make the best of what is left.