And I am much amazed.
In other days we imagined
What could climb our trellis
Of time, what would open
Under light that had
Not touched us yet, how far into
Eden we might get, might
Return in love to look
For a lost glove, find
Dropped shears --it could
Take many years.
A moving and tender poem and a lovely photo.
ReplyDeleteI love this Geo. I am a gardener also who often has dirt under my fingernails and seeds in my pocket. I am proud of all that I have planted and nurtured, be it a beautiful flower, or a child I have loved and raised with love and care.
ReplyDeleteI caught the unmistakable scent of Sweet Pea as I read this! Beautiful.
ReplyDeleteJon, Arleen, Helena, I think you'd like Norma. She's quiet but full of mischief, and gardens in French.
ReplyDeleteThat is lovely.
ReplyDeleteSweetly said, Geo.
Pearl
Most kind, Pearl. Thanks.
ReplyDelete