What if..
A sunny sweet morn,
Lively, joyful air,
Toast and buttery delight
Brimmed it fair.
My garden was buzzing with bees,
Flowers bloomed, loosening up their tints
In holy glees.
I told my husband the other day,
“I want my plants in a better way.”
So, there he was with a man
who would mend the plants my way.
A man, earth-stained he was, jolly and hard,
Set to dig my yard.
I told him to make my plants the way I want.
Sun shone brighter than the morn.
We both watched him work.
A few minutes later, my husband went about his work,
So did I to my own.
My kitchen began making noise.
Plates and spoons made their gentle clinks.
I cried to my husband,
“Time to eat…”
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….. What if the man in the yard is hungry, too!
What if I offer him some food!
Or… at least some tea…!
Husband said, “Nope! It’s not the culture. He will refuse.”
“Right! That might be true.” Thought I.
…………What if I ask him
A part in me knocked in my soul….
I set the kettle on the stove
Water started bubbling,
Sweetly…
A cup with a quenching gesture set out its way
Towards the yard where I saw him
Pouring his heart and sweat.
“Hey, Swanko, will some tea feel a little glee and free…?” Uttered I with utter uncertainty.
“Yes, Ma’am. I appreciate it”.
My heart dropped a load.
Lips found a grin, I know not from where.
Swanko put his wagon aside
And sat down in the mud, making his eyes bright
As if a mother has shown up for a child’s delight.
