Portrait by a Neighbor
Before she has her floor swept
Or her dishes done,
Any day you'll find her
A-sunning in the sun
It's long after midnight
Her key's in the lock,
and you never see her chimney smoke
Til past ten o'clock
She digs in her garden
With a shovel and a spoon,
She weeds her lazy lettuce
By the light of the moon,
She walks up the walk
Like a woman in a dream
She forgets she borrowed butter
And pays you back in cream
Her lawn looks like a meadow
And if she mows the place,
She leaves the clover standing
And the Queen Anne's Lace
What a perfect Sunday poem. I love it.
ReplyDeletethank you, Ms. Moon. I never pass queen anne's lace on the back roads without thinking of this poem, and finally, finally, after over 40 years of waiting, we now have lawns full of it. And fields. I mow around it. And when I do, I hear this poem in the back of my head.
DeleteEnjoyed the poem and love Queen Ann’s lace. I alway look forward to August when it grows here.
ReplyDeleteI only saw my first Queen Anne's Lace up here about twenty years ago, and then it disappeared under the next load of wood.
DeleteAnd then a few years ago I was mucking about in one of the gardens, and--oh my. You don't suppose...--and there it was, all curled in on itself in prebloom state...
and the next year there were more of them, and I told my husband, if you mow, mow around it. And he did. By now it's established itself enough so that it seems to be spreading nicely.
Edna would be pleased.