granny's garden revisited

gentle lady, mother of nine,

widowed too young -

no time to grieve;

times were hard,

life had to go on.

in your golden years,

when you could take some ease,

you planted the whole front yard

of the house on clemson street

with flowers -

an outpost of eden.

you were already white-haired

and worn

when i came along.

i loved the way you poured your coffee

into the saucer for me -

laced with sugar and lots of cream.

you would pat my hand,

and say:  come sit near granny

and i would snuggle up beside you,

my head, resting on your  bosom.

i did not know then

what i know now -

how age and the cares of this world

catch up with us in the end.

how i wish i could roll back time

and join you in your garden

once again....

-stacy wills (4/21/9012)