This beautiful life filled with flowers and strife
And hours that spill into what used to be
Doth startle us oft as it slips silver-soft
From bud into bloom to tomb marked with stark tree
This beautiful life, like a stream running rife
Where both dream and Duty seem never quite done
Teaches us to touch but not cling to or clutch
The sea slipping through us like sparkles of sun
This beautiful life like a supple-slick knife
That cuts to the quick with its ticking and tock
Carves, with dimming day and dawn’s brimming hurray
Mementos in vaults that no key can unlock
This beautiful life, ah, this beautiful life
It bends our bearing with love’s care and pain
But, in its granting we find ourselves planting
A garden to stroll through again and again
© Janet Martin
How doth your garden grow?
With snow gone(for now:) our thoughts turn toward planting...seeds and memories!
What a quick week;
granting some yummy moments...
Some "look mummy! I can lie on my tummy and hold up my head!" moments...
Some (not caught on camera) two little boys checking out Janet's muddy garden moments
that led to much extra-laundry moments...
Some cutsie-tootsie moments...
Some 'let's tidy' moments...
...and some tidy moments too:)
Happy Saturday to you!