Skip to content
Linespedia

In Your Garden

By tigerlilly

Topics: Poetry Source: AllPoetry Original source

Each morning, I brush your hair, look through the window... tell you what I see there, in your garden... how it misses your tender love and care. The old tom cat you saved last winter, looks fat and sassy now... I tell you this, as I wash your face... then kiss your precious brow. The bird bath and the feeder, I tend to these things for you... we never know beforehand what trials life will bring us to. But one thing is as certain as crocus pushing through the sod... while we speak of your garden, Mama, we're both holding hands with God.all comments and critiques welcomed :) Written February 18th, 2002 © on Feb 18 2002 03:28 AM PST   18 • 0 • 12

AI analysis available. Enable JavaScript to interact.

About this line

"Each morning, I brush your hair,..."

Attribution & Rights

Author:tigerlilly

Source:AllPoetry

"Each morning, I brush your hair,..." by tigerlilly

For usage rights, copyright concerns, or to report an issue with this content, please visit our Copyright & Report page.

Classified Tags

Related lines

"At three in the morning, darkest hour… a doubt arises; and I have no power to quell the thought, rising cold and gray, that you have flown far away. Writhing... twisting in my head, phantom notions f..."

"Around the clock, there is no hour you are not here in dreamtime’s bower, in wistful thoughts and midnight scenes… I sense you here, in all my dreams. This is where I see your face, you smile at me…..."

"It was a flannel-wrapped southern night, and the Yankee man did not yet know how warm a honeyed drawl could drip into his ear, drowning out the rifle-cracking sound of ice storms splitting sap-frozen ..."

"spread before her like a rainbow, lay many colored beads... new sinew at the ready, bone needle used with ease; sharp knife to cut the pattern in the buckskin piece at hand, she's shaping her tomorrow..."

"The inn was filled with soldiers passing through this village fair. The tavern owner's daughters served up ale with practiced flair. But one had slipped away unseen, drawn by a young man's winning wa..."

"Bad news, breaking into the sphere of consciousness, heralds change. A weighty word that snares my spirit, sends it plunging like a stone to unfathomed depths. These are uncertain times, but I've w..."

tigerlilly

About tigerlilly

Full Bibliography
Continue Reading

"At three in the morning, darkest hour… a doubt ari..."

Weekly Poetic Insight

Join our literary Sanctuary

Get the most inspiring lines, poetic analysis, and secret shayaris delivered to your inbox every Sunday.