Poetry

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I watched her gathering flowers

As the sun beat on her face

She had been at it, for hours

Not slowing down. . .Her pace


Plucking wildflowers, one after one

Climbing up the side of a hill

Not wanting her, to notice me

I stood quiet and very still


It seemed, she couldn't get enough

It was as if she were . . .On a mission

No fooling around, no fluff

To know her aim, I was wishin'


With handfull's of flowers, overflowing

She laid these, inside her hat

Looking excited, happiness growing

On the edge of the bench, she sat


My curiosity, getting the best of me

I walked to her, and said "Hello"

I couldn't help seeing, her face

Was so pretty with a special glow


I asked if there was a reason

For this gathering, she had done

The smile in her eye's was teasin'

As she answered "It's so much fun!"


Then all of a sudden, she got serious

Saying "See that big building over there?"

I looked, and saw a tall one near to us

They're for the 'Elders' there, to share


She went on . . . Saying they were lonely

And some too ill, to enjoy the season

She would bundle them, and give as gifts

And love and caring. . . . Was her reason!.



Copyright © 2007 Judith Johnson Kypta

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