It was a single blade of new, green grass
that now lay gently in her hand-
Its importance not apparent
to those who may not understand........
It was a blade of grass, the darkest green
from this Northern meadow crest-
And with no bugs, no blight, no sunburned tip
it was one as perfect as the rest.
So important because......it was his grass, his favorite strain
put down the year he took her hand,
They bought this place, some late in life-
And it had become more work than they had planned.
But they'd worked together, side-by-side
for many years before he died-
They'd laughed and loved, on better days
and on others, fought and cried.
She recalled the day they'd tilled the soil
up on this Northern meadow ground,
And she remembered how he'd shed a tear
as he lay that first seed down.
For it was a dream they both had shared
the dream of ownin' land-
And when two souls can share the same bright dream
there isn't much that can't be had.
She remembered all the foals that grazed
on this Northern meadow land-
And with fondness, all the fine, strong stock
that had come to wear their brand.
A pleasant gust of summer wind,
and the blade of grass, no longer seen-
A thinning whisp of silver hair
now lays blowing gently through the green.
A small leathered hand, now graces green
as if reaching out for his-
An aging heart...... beats one last time......
and on weathered lips, the cold, sweet smile of bliss.
Today, it's still a single blade of new, green grass
one just as perfect as the rest-
And it thrives as it grows, above them both
up on that Northern meadow crest.
�1999 Maggie Mae Sharp
She was prone to pick wildflowers
on cool Autumn evenings
while bringing the cows in from graze-
And she'd arrange them in jars
in the windows, and hum......
little tunes that would brighten his days.
Then one day,
When she went to pick wildflowers
on one bright Summer morning
while still in her slippers and gown-
The Lord came to pick her
to arrange in His window......
and her funeral was held in their town.
And now he waters those wildflowers
on bright Summer mornings
while remembering the love of his life-
And he'll arrange them in jars
in the windows, and hum.........
little tunes that he learned from his wife.
�1999 Maggie Mae Sharp
Reminder: It ain't the cowboy way to go stealin' stuff. This material is copyrighted, so don't even think about using it without written permission from the author.