Saturday, November 1, 2008

Poem read from Judge Feeney....

I did not plant you, true.
But when the season is done,
When the alternative prayers for sun
and for rain are counted,
When the pain of weeding
And the pride of watching are through,
Then I will hold you high,
A shining sheaf above
the thousand seeds grown wild.
Not my planting,
But, by Heaven,
My harvest -
My child.


Eileen said...

Such a lovely poem, D...and so true. Thanks for sharing this. I'm sure hearing it helped to make that day even more special.

Texas Lisa said...