Lines written during President Obama’s Last News Conference

This pot of soup, full of last Summer’s garden,
Wafts thyme and basil, bay and garlic, too;
All the scents of August are returning
In steamy tendrils throughout every room.
The wind is icy and the roads are treacherous;
We might despair for lack of heat and light-
The day dims early, many days are coming
When all we see will be the fall of night.
Still if we can remember Summer’s brightness,
The loving touch of breezes, colors, too,
The Hope of what she offered and still offers
In all we have preserved from what we grew,
Last Summer’s garden’s gone, yet Hope remains
In its return at Spring’s new warmth and rains.


About janemwoodman

Singer, writer, restaurant reviewer, urban farmer, devoted lover of my husband....old and getting happier all the time.
This entry was posted in Gardening, Patience, Poetry, Politics, Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

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