In the merry month of May, Grandpa planted his famous tomatoes.
The heat from the jagged glass made them grow strong and tall, And the afternoon sun beat down in beams of God’s nurturing rays, While nitrogen poured its liquid fertilizer upon the parched ground.


Grandma sat on the stoop in her cotton dress, paring potatoes,
And watching with eagle eyes from her perch.
Her white hair wisps caught the afternoon breeze,And she gently brushed them back into the bun at the nape of her neck.
Her brown leathery skin told the tale of many years in the hot sun where she often hoed and weeded to feed her family and neighbors.


 

 



Watch these pages for more poems by Phyllis Ann.
In the meantime, click the links below for
poems and stories by our other authors.


Love's Blossom

Forget Me Nots

The Cat

Spring Is Here

Flowers Tell A Story

Gentle Winds

Remembrance


And.......for many others, click the index image.



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