May 9, 2006

A Poem Dedicated to...

A "basket" of flowers in a bright little pan!
From seedlings, it grows to a bouquet grand!
A tiny little Morning Glory!
Billy says there's quite a story
Of how this flower causes quite a worry.
Overtaking everything in a flurry!

How's that for a woman who said she
Would never work in a garden again.

A Poem dedicated to
"Grandma's Garden"

As a child we worked from daybreak to end.
Plowing and making rows straight as a pin!
Planting each tiny seed like it was a friend.
Watching for shoots in the early spring wind.

Up with the dawn, all day we would spend
Hoeing and picking through the strange blend.
If a weed got pulled and tossed by mistake,
We would cry and beg, but it was too late.
A horrible thrashing would be our fate.

Then one day we laid down the hoe and closed the gate
No more corn to pick and weeds to rake
Potatoes to dig and beans to stake!
Boiling hot sun and deep backaches.
Hoe handles too long and bugs we hate.
We moved from Missouri. Was it too late?
Our childhood almost over. What was our fate?

The garden lives in pictures we take
Grandma looks happy! That's not a fake!
A picture. A thousand words make.
The dress. The bonnet. Heads that bake.

Today the garden land lays sweet and bare
The gate is fallen and lying there
Beside a dusty road - once a thoroughfare.
Testiment to a childhood memory - if I dare!

Take Care on the Journey


The Cat's Meow said...

That is a very nice poem. Grandma would be proud of ya. Even if she never showed us any kind of those feelings. I'm really GLAD I'm not still there gardening!!!!!

Linda M. said...

Thanks, little sister. That's why my book has a dedication to you.