The dormant grass, so ugly and brown,
Started it's greening, as rain falls down.
While the picture, of grass being dead,
Runs through, my old and weary head.
I should know better, not to fear,
That Natures power, the greening is near.
I must plant, new bulbs in September,
For Spring's bright display and to remember,
Colors that will, erupt from the bed
Of our yard, that looks very dead.

I have lost her now,
it is what I see.
Lost the brightness in here eyes
Now she has lost her memory.
Her memory of the life of ours,
remembering nothing of before;
where we lived and much more.
I worry as our life is not the same
knowing now she remembers my name.
At least she knows on this day,
uncertain how long it will stay.

Azaleas, so pretty to see.
Are you a plant
or a miniature tree?

A frosty morning
Flowered buds all closed
Opening with the Sun