Old Edith.

Blind old Edith is planting her garden

With seeds she will never see grow.

She fumbles in the packet,

Her gnarled arthritic fingers

Struggling to grasp them

Then place them in a row.

Maybe next summer

She’ll smell their sweet perfume,

Maybe she won’t be here.

But whenever we plant

We’re growing for the future

Flowers and trees and bushes

For another year.

Make the world a better place

With beauty all around us.

She may be blind but Edith leaves

A legacy of cheer.

Kay Lesley Reeves is a UK ex-pat happily retired to sunny Spain. She likes to read, write, paint and sing.