This poem was written for my precious mother. I remember when I first read it to her, she cried. I am so glad I was able to share it with her. She was my best friend, then and forever.
All around outside the dwelling
Where my mom and dad reside
Is my Mama's flower garden
It's her greatest joy and pride.
From early spring the flowers blossom
Till autumn's frost brings winter's chill
All up and down the walkway
Along the driveway, down the hill.
Yellow daffodils in springtime
And blue asters in the fall,
Iris, hollyhocks, and daisies
Confederate roses standing tall.
From early spring till summer's ended
Mama coaxes them to grow.
They dare not do less than their best
Because she loves them so.
Bright butterflies and honeybees
Midst the blossoms fly around
Cause they know in Mama's garden
There the sweetest nectar's found.
We go walking in the evening
She likes to linger by each plant
Telling how it came to be there
Each one's origin recant.
"There's the fern from off the creek bank,
Gardinia sweet of Georgia clay.
Then there's the bush of rambling roses
From Grandma Dixon's old home place.
That Crape Myrtle was a cutting
From the one my mama had.
Stood near the fence around the garden
That was built by your granddad.
Oh, there's the graduation plant!
It blooms crimson every May.
Remember, there I took your picture
On your graduation day."
Sometimes pausing, Mama stoops down
Pulls a weed that's taken root.
Then she'll say, "Must be a million
I have pulled up of these shoots!"
But they're all jealous of the flowers,
Every thistle, briar, and weed.
It's Mama's touch they've been a craving
Since the time they were a seed.
Often times on summer evenings
We all sit out on the porch,
As the grandkids all chase fireflies
To put inside an old fruit quart.
How we enjoy these precious moments
Our memory presses every bloom,
As Mama's garden fills our senses
With its fragrant sweet perfume.
by Yvonne Golden