Sunny Day Flowers

A place I remembered well, where dreams were born, and memories made.

This was where children learned, loved, laughed, growing while they played. 

I passed over the land with a task or two to complete in a string called day.

I arrived, visited and left without a word, completing my tasks along the way.

I paused to create a moment compressed on either side by the rapidity of time,

And in doing so I captured images that played in my mind like a rhyme.

In soils rotated by year, colors so pretty they needed to be seen and shared.

God takes care of the allowance for growth, once the ground has been prepared.

They say a woman works this land for the love of it, humbled with a simple pride.

In the wind, folks from all around refer to this woman as a saint, a person glorified.

I cannot dispute the sentiment, I always find simple pleasures passing along this way.

Time slows down in this place, just enough to enjoy flowers on a sunny day.