Old Tangled Weeds

She strained in the hazy, hot afternoon,

   bending over the backyard garden.

She toiled for a time so long--

   tending to its beauty,

   bestowing love and song.

Pulling weeds that were so thick, so many,

   they almost smothered out the stems

and stalks that tried to reach the skies--

   but for her hands, the plants

   would have never risen so high.

Rich and hewn with healthy delight

   she created a garden of heart-warming sight.

But years of this work weakened her body

   forcing her back to stay bent;

   cramped hands that oft bled.

“All worth it,” she said,

“After the years spent lost

   in old tangled weeds.

I had help from those

   who planted seeds--

only it was I who could take

   the action to go,

by pulling the weeds

   so my garden could grow.”

And tend it each day she does,

with her nurturing hands,

and a heart full of love.

Theresa M