It’s the brilliance of a sunrise
Or gazing into blue skies,
It’s the happy smile upon a grandchild’s face;
It’s a bowl of watermelon,
Or a bowl of Jello jelling,
It’s your mother’s wedding gown
that’s trimmed with lace;
It’s a child’s face on Christmas morning,
Or a storm breaking without warning,
It’s a garden of tomatoes on the vine;
It’s first blossoms on a fruit tree,
Or a mother hen and chickees,
It’s sharing with your friends a glass of wine.
It’s a fireplace when it’s chilly,
Or a puppy being silly,
It’s a garden filled with golden daffodils,
It’s a bowl of deep red cherries,
Or a field of dark wild berries,
It’s a row of violets on a window sill;
It’s a mama cat and kittens,
It’s a snowman wearing mittens,
It’s falling autumn leaves in red and brown,
It’s an old barn in the country,
Or a little ballet wannabe,
It’s wildflowers in the field and all around,
It’s a cookbook that was Grandma’s,
And an old pipe that was Grandpa’s.
It’s my mama’s big old yellow mixing bowl,
It’s a full moon on a clear night,
It’s flying east to first light,
It’s watching as a mare gives birth to foal;
It’s a flight of geese migrating,
It’s Christmas anticipating,
It’s all of these and surely I won’t boast,
It’s a rainbow after showers,
It’s spending many hours,
It’s being close to those who love you most.
Sandra Lee Smith
October, 2009/retyped June 16,, 2018
