Wednesday, November 29, 2006

Elaine Beth...

She sits in the drizzling rain, knee-high in mud.
Oldest clothes on, stocking cap
and large straw hat both crowning her head.
Wet and dirty,
Tired but content.
She gardens, and time stands still.
Surrounding humanity moves on, racing.

Calling out from the porch,
She turns at the sound of my voice.
Caught under the spell of her world,
Her own personal Eden.

The glory shines around her.

1 comment:

Sharon said...

Beautifully put.

I showed this to Mama on my pc, and she had no idea you had written this. She laughed, recalling the time that Mildred called the police to ask Mama to come in from gardening in a thunderstorm.