Here's a little poem I wrote (you might want to read it note by note..)
This little bit of poesy came to me last summer. It reminds me of my Grandma Cherie, who died a couple years ago. Although I miss her terribly, I can't complain because just knowing her added a richness to my life that not everybody gets to begin with-- it's like complaining about having to go home after a day at Disneyland. Anyway, here it is.
Her garden is a hidden bowl of sunlight.
Raucous colors dance around her as she grubs.
There are no barbs, no weapons, no defenses.
She doesn't know how beautiful she is.
I didn't say it was going to be a long poem (and yes, I know it doesn't rhyme. I sound like Dr. Suess when I try to rhyme). Just think of it as a little verbal sketch.
"As drawn by a true an' lovin' hand"*
If you don't like it, I don't want to know.
*yet another movie line. No fair using google this time!