your garden is all grown up
said the daughter
to the old man as they
sat in front of the fire pit
listening to the wood talk
she remembered way back when
there were stepping stones
throughout the garden
and she would jump from one stone
to the next like you would
the stones were still there
camouflaged beneath the jungle
barely noticeable amongst the greenery
blossoming a spectrum of colors
rainbows inspired to imitate
do you remember
when we put in the stepping stones
asked the old man
yes I do
answered the daughter
I was just thinking about that
june two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
Reassurance of similar thought through the daughter – nice !
This one’s a bit more autobiographical than most – thanks much Mr. Murphy 😉
No problem with a bit of self indulgence !! 🙂
Beautiful…the garden’s not the only one who grew up here,lol
How life moves on and still stands still in our hearts and minds. I love this.
Thanks so much Dotta – and I agree with your assessment regarding movement and time….
Nice, John! Evokes memories of childhood!
Thank you, Lola 😀
wow i think this poem would evoke memories for many who read this .. it certainly brought back to my mind the stepping stones in a garden when I was a child and this poem gave me goosebumps truly .. innocent times of a life that somehow seems to belong to someone else now but I know was mine on those stepping stones .. ..:)) thankQ always beez ;)x
Thank you so much, Beez. I’m happy to read this poem touched your heart. Blessings!
Stones have life on their own. they are great masters waiting to be found… 🙂
So true, my friend. Thank you so much for your support of my poetry.
Always Matt, we are more than just poets. We are a movement and we must act as that!
Thank you 😀
Beautiful work my friend. I especially like the line, “listening to the wood talk”. Very evocative and creates an intriguing atmosphere.
Thanks so much, Brian – also appreciate the reblog. Wishing you a wonderful weekend!
Reblogged this on My Bewildered Brain.