It’s just a tiny thing and doesn’t mean much but when the
purple heads stand proud and royal, I think of you and how your garden was your
crowning glory.
The afternoons you
toiled and coaxed those blooms and bells live on and bring such grace to this
sacred space.
I’m thankful now for such
loving hands and soulful sacrifice.
The fruit of your labor lives on and on.
One day I will join you but for now I tend your garden and
add to it the rich colors and wildflowers reminiscent of that verdant valley
you called home.
Many walk by but few
ever spy with my knowing eye how fine and fragrant this place is.
It’s love and care that tarries there and
makes your garden grow.
Yvonne A.
May 25, 2020
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