A beautiful spot to linger and take in the sights,
Of all that Mom and mother nature did inspite
The inclimate weather, sometimes lack of rain
But the garden grew so lovely and still remains.
Every rock that was placed by her loving hands,
In just the right spot to enhance the span.
Each plant carefully chosen from the garden shop,
Then carefully placed within the right spot.
The rose bushes that have struggled to survive,
Were planted by her son, whom she gave life.
A Mother's day gift from some years back now
They still thrive, and she really don't know how.
He also gave her a large round stone plaque,
With the words, "Mom's Garden" inscribed in black.
It invites you to enter as you follow the trail
That leads pass the frog abode and the snail.
There are lots of creatures who reside there
From hand painted rocks, cats, and even a hare.
Mom's paradise, filled with beautiful flowers
She takes special care, watches over it for hours.
Even though her working days now are few,
The memories will linger of how the butterflies flew.
They suckled each bloom as they burst into bloom,
Mom's memories will be special and her very own.
Mom's mind is on different work now,
She makes webpages of beauty some how.
And writes pretty verses and sometime prose.
And dresses up her websites as she goes.
She has friends galore who help her to relate,
To the pains that rack her body every day.
Some are funny and make her laugh.
And some listen to her and think her daft.
Staying up all night into the wee morning,
Picking out framework for her latest poems.
Praying for the Lord to give her the strength,
To handle daily tasks, that require much length.
Written by Shirley Barr
July 14, 2004
Revised September 16, 2005
All Rights Reserved
Proverbs 31:31 ~ Give her of the fruit of her hands;
and let her own works praise her in the gates |
