Sarge, this is for you
Sometimes I forget why I love you
. . . . . I have always had a great affection for grass. It seems to stand for quietness and strength.
. . . . . . . . . . ~~ Henry A Wallace
This is why:
You gave me grass,
Gardener, painter, my eye never saw them
So soft in the distance, fine in the foreground
Now: spring is not spring without the green girls flouncing
nor summer summer without the fine fringe
the subtle flower
nor fall fall without the seed heads dancing
Winter's fine gold thatch that keeps the ground
and saves and plants seeds for friends and neighbors
nurses the children of strangers
You picked well my love:
how your life's work mirrors your soul
Quiet and strength, indeed
Come soon
my soul needs that
as does my garden
jjl
14 October 2010
2 comments:
Your poem touches me deeply.
Such a gift you have for capturing the essence of things. Certainly this one ranks among your best, and it is an instant favorite of mine.
Thank you love. This was one that nearly wrote itself (after taunting me for nearly two years with the green girls line).
xox
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