Flowers You Left Behind Poem by Bill Galvin

I sit outside on the deck.
The evening is comfortable,
And your gardens bloom in the yard before me.

Still in flower into July,
The red lilies stand tall on bold stems;
The foxglove flowers fall off bottom to top,
With last purple trumpet shapes hanging high;
Blueberry blossoms have dropped and fruit begins;
Hosta thrust stalks with blue bells heavenward;
Echinacea buds begin their unfolding;
Brown-eyed Susans consider when to join;
Delicate columbine dot the garden edges;
While honeysuckle and clethra wait in the wings.

Something to soothe a sorrowful soul,
And good for healing a heavy heart.

In this life on earth so frail and fragile,
As we never know how long or how soon,
It is important we leave flowers behind us
Of one sort or another,
On the paths of those who follow.
Flowers to be seen, heard, read, or felt;
To be passed down perennially rooted in soil,
Or read aloud or in quiet reflection,
Or paid forward as gestures of our spirit,
Or felt as inspiration to those left behind.

This world we leave has been touched by us all
In some way or another.

We walk many miles before we sleep;
We should strive to leave a good impression.


7-2-2015