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 |    We live much of life amid unique choices. Joy is anchored in The One beyond our life. |
The sun was shining wondrous bright. The pansies needed homes. The work required was far from light. I tousled up the loam. A three-pronged claw released the roots. My hands grabbed clods of grass, and throwing them past my big boots, I finished a big task. Garden soil, now, fully bare, I brought the cedar mulch, and smoothed the cover from here to there aroma to divulge. Well thought-out placement, flower faces found their homes in front of the greenhouse "castle," and it's graces, like a cake of loamy bundt. This joy, now done needs water's spray to quench the thirst of all, to settle roots in newest day, protection from God call. Such beauty blessed, I pray their safety now from cold and fauna, that they might e'er live. The frost tonight could make them freeze and bow, but hope in tact, I'll wait them time to give. The pansies last beyond the hardened freeze, but deer can be another thing, indeed. The ice can come and go on all of these, but "salad" brings them low of faunish greed. By grace we'll see the pansies soon, and joy at ev'ry sight. Tonight the cold may be a boon for springtime's joy, delight. by Jay O’Toole on January 27th, 2023   |
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