MUSED
BellaOnline Literary Review
Creater Lake by Al Rollins

Poetry


My dirty hands

Bridget Aubrey

I hold the rich, crumbly dirt in my hands,
Savoring the warmth of sunlight in it,
Inhaling the aromas of power that
The dark earth holds.

With this power and a tiny seed
I can create wonders.
Where now the earth is idle, I can,
With natureís help, sow seeds into this ground,
Watch as small green fledglings emerge
And stretch towards the life giving sunlight.

My gardenerís heart jumps with delight,
And with a feeling of gratitude
I watch over those emerald babies.

There is a lot of trust between
gardener and plant.
I trust they will grow, they trust
I will water them, watch over them.

One day soon, some will tower over me.
It is amazing!

In the shade provided by golden sunflowers
and soft yellow blooming okra stalks,
I kneel down to weed.
They soak up the sun, I appreciate
the shade they give.
Happily I work with my dirty hands.

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Summer Solstice 2011 Table of Contents