Long ago, a little girl who lived upon our block
Loved to have her photograph snapped by the hollyhock,
For years, we knew she loved the plant, but, then, we learned the truth
Each time she sat beside the field, she thought of Grandma Ruth.

Her Grandma Ruth had been a friend to everyone she’d met
It was certain she was someone not easy to forget,
And still, I’d never heard the tale her granddaughter would share
About the seeds Ruth gave to those she held with loving care.

The little girl smiled big and bright and then, she said to me
“The hollyhock is there because Grandma willed it to be”
Instead of dollars, gifts or treats as tokens for good deeds
Ruth honored her granddaughters’ acts with small packets of seeds.

The children had planted the seeds; none were left on a shelf
By doing so, each child had placed a small piece of herself,
Upon the grounds where we call home; a place where beauty dwells
Where tulips rise from bulbs each spring, next to the cockleshells.

I thought about the beauty found within our neighborhood
And, how Ruth had taught a lesson, so few had understood,
The lives we lead will come and go, when years become unkind
But, we shall forge our legacies in the seeds we leave behind.

© 2007 – Jill Eisnaugle’s Poetry Collection