Her Garden

On her perfect patch of earth,

she uses her endless energy

tilling the dark dirt -

the will of her love

bringing life from the earth,

I watch her watering away

early every morning,

working the “good earth”,

fighting with the weeds,

she digs deep until

early every afternoon –

a life-line for her

plugging into the earth,

drawing on its energy,

she radiates life

playing with the earth;

I watch her sweat

so sweetly,

her tan high-brim hat

holding back her blond hair

and keeping the glare

of the high noon sun

from her pale skin;

I watch her move gingerly,

gracefully between

those under her care,

with piercing blue eyes

she looks over the fruits

of her labors, smiling,

working through

each warm mornings,

I watch her tending

her perfect patch of earth,