For Quadrille Monday this week, Victoria asks us, “How does your garden grow?” I’m a day late with this, but here is mine. I might add pictures later.
Everything that she touches dies.
So the garden in front of these eyes
Was planted by her brother’s loving hands.
Her heart such beauty understands,
In awe of God and human skill
Under the sun, her spirits rise.
Gratitude and peace her worries still.