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.
