Granny's garden springs alive;its square now marked by rows.
The soil rich will sprout and thrive.
No longer stunned by winter's snow.
Its square now marked by perfect rows,
Granny's down on her hands and knees.
No longer stunned by winter's snow,
one-by-one she plants her seeds.
Granny's down on her hands and knees,
ignoring her ninety-one years.
One-by-one she plants her seeds,
through all her blood and sweat and tears.
Ignoring her ninety-one years,
the soil rich will sprout and thrive.
Through all her blood and sweat and tears,
Granny's garden springs alive!
**click on pictures to enlarge**
1 comment:
That's my favorite kind of poem. I love the structure because it's a bit daunting at first but the final stanza is always really cool and powerful. Nicely done!
G
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