Momma's Bucket Garden

there never is enogh you know, no matter what we bring
out come a stack of buckets, it happens every spring
we plant a little garden, no time to watch it grow
if momma sees a root or plant, to a bucket it will go

she loves the sight of nature, pretty flowers, the smells delight
Her little bucket garden is a quite familiar sight.
if it grows, she wants to tend it
if it cooks, its on the stove
if it cans,
we're cleaning mason jars,
corn on the cob in droves
as hard as it can get sometimes, we let her have her way
she gives her love with food, we know
but thats what makes her day

we've all enjoyed the fruits of love, enduring til this day
she can't undo her need to see,that all are loved this way
the recipes she leaves behind, will surely be well spent
but they'll be here for kids and friends to use for each event


this is a poem I wrote about mom and she wanted the other kids to see it. we've teased her about her bucket garden from time to time. she liked it. she has a hard time understanding our world. she was never about the world. due to necessity, I suppose, she was about god, her kids, our dad and her job and that kept her a very busy lady. she never failed to give a prayer for those who come by needing it. nor did she fail to feed the hungry where she could and show kindness to those less fortunate. she now sits and ponders over the things her kids do that she can't believe. she frets over the sick and the ones that may not exactly be on the straight and narrow.we have lots of talks about what we can and can not control and I answer lots of questions over and over and over. our elderly(not all of them but some)do not understand the things of our society today. what they really didn't see is that in giving their children everything they didn't have, they failed to give them what they had.this doesn't mean they are horrible, but they can not live like we did. it no longer works.well I will close this entry. it seems I'm rattling. love and prayers for all.