(In Memory of Muriel Blaine)

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

The willow and the hammock,

The flowers, the open sky,

I remember her home with fondness

Even as the years go by.

Her hard work in the garden,

Her doilies in crochet,

Those evenings on the porch swing

Mean more than I can say.

Sunday beads and earrings,

With Bible by her side,

She knew the Lord, she loved the hymns,

She sang and hummed and cried.

Her voice was love and kindness,

Her heart, wise as her owls,

The children were her jewels

She talked with us for hours.

The games we played as family

Are memories I will keep.

She laughed and squealed and screamed in delight

And made our fun complete.

In the kitchen when guitars strummed

We loved to watch in awe

As she and Grandad jitterbugged

Without a care at all.

They’re reaching for each other’s hands,

I can see them still.

One crosses, and one waits in joy–

Together in The City on the Hill.

By JB Morris- Poems, Prose, and Possibilities- mostly about life, sometimes about God, with brief interludes concerning shoe addiction.

Toss a Coin into the Poet’s Cap

Donations accepted to defray site costs. For publishing requests, contact juliebmorris@obscurewritings.com.


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