Tuesday, January 06, 2009

The last of my baby sweet peas

Here they are
at the end of summer
dried and open
with seeds to give

a gift of nature
to pay it forward
placed in my hand
a promise made

I shall do my duty
to dry and save them
careful to touch
their delicate shells

I'll remove the vines
all twisted and brown
and kiss the ground
goodnight for the winter

I have given my promise
to the Sweet Peas of summer
to bring forth the beauty
when the ground turns warm

Started in my window
in little cuplets
all toasty and warm
while the cold winds blow

As they grow and play
as little babies in my window
I shall delight in their laughter
as their baby petals grow

Then as they scream
to be planted in my garden
I shall carry them out
as they feel the spring rains

"Me, I want that spot!"
"No plant me there!"
As they all pic a location
in the ground they will go

I shall speak to the sweet peas
A gift of God
feeling ever so grateful
for my Sweet Pea Pods

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