Yellow and burnt orange
marigolds,
row on row,
spilled over the garden fence,
at my little house
full of children
in Kelowna,
long ago.
Backpacks,
and shoes
just inside the door,
made a hill
so steep.
I never thought
one day I'd miss
that messy heap.
We thought
those days
would for forever last,
but life has a way
of going by
too fast.
Bikes and hikes
and flying kites,
our snug little home
full of music and laughter,
together we made
memories
that would last
forever after.
The kitchen was the colour
of marigolds.
I remember
breakfasts and suppers,
and morning songs,
my heart full of joy,
and marigolds cascading
over the garden fence
each September.
For the prompt at dVerse: to write about an aspect of fall.
Just beautiful. It all goes by so quickly.A poem filled with warmth and love.
ReplyDeleteYes indeed. I'd love a kitchen the color of marigolds. This poem is so full of loss. I love the rhymes in this. It is great to see you here!
ReplyDeleteYes indeed. I'd love a kitchen the color of marigolds. This poem is so full of loss. I love the rhymes in this. It is great to see you here!
ReplyDeleteThose were the busy days but looking back, we are full of nostalgia for those times ~ Life was just too fast ~ Take care Sherry ~
ReplyDeleteWhat a wonderful place, and the brightness of the yellow. How well we can remember a place for its flowers. Time is such a force of destruction
ReplyDeleteLove the images of the marigolds!
ReplyDeleteSo many wonderful memories - I love the colours and warmth in your poem and those cascading marigolds of September bring so much joy :o) xxx
ReplyDeleteIt all seems to go by as fast as a season.
ReplyDeleteI, too, have marigold memories. Love this.
ReplyDeleteBeautiful memories - love the essence of marigolds.
ReplyDeleteAaah...In the midst of Beauty...
ReplyDelete