-- Geraniums on the Windowsill --
John Herlihy
My mother kept geraniums on the windowsill,
Still there at rest because I remember them still.
No doubt they stayed there all the year round;
I see them now in winter; their beauty profound.
As a child, my little mind couldn’t fully comprehend,
How pink clusters of blossoms could such joy send.
I wanted to water them, trim them and touch them;
We stood together looking, me reaching her hem.
“Where do they come from,” I asked her in delight.
“Do you remember darkness in the sky at midnight.”
“Of course I do,” I told her, “it gives me such fear.”
“Fear not,” she said tenderly, as she drew me near.
With a deep breath, she gazed dreamily into my eyes:
“In darkness, worlds are born, only God could devise.”
I remember this story during this time of darkest night,
Geraniums on a windowsill, born into this world of light.
- - - - - -
(c) John Herlihy 25 March 2020
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A beautifully written poem so vivid the images
shared.
Love ya!
Jane
Rebecca
We have a flower box on our deck in front of my exercise machine. For several years with beautiful geraniums and sweet alyssum. But occasional freezes have a devastating effect and also the depletion of fertility in the soil making it harder after a freeze for the plants to come back.
Last year the flower box was not properly wrapped with metal, and one side broke loose and fell into my sliding glass door window. And all of the flowers died leaving one shriveled geranium skeleton untouched. With the coming of spring it has come forth again and is flowering for my morning and late evening exercise regimen. A joy to behold.
Ron