She hath wings

I stand in the shade,

Gazing at the grassy hill

             that Papa made-

Years of memories

     Laid to rest today.

The sun is glorious;

I am glad to have one last stroll-

I can still hear children shrieking with joy

As they roll

         down Papa’s hill.

Beyond,

Now overgrown with trees,

Is the place where

The two-storey tree house stood

           till it rotted, not before

Many hours of carefree play-

The old picnic table,

Embraced by Wattle,

Blue Jacaranda and Tea Trees;

Outdoor Christmases years ago;

Remembered with ease.

Nana knew her plants by name-

Carefully planted one by one;

A testament to her loving hands

As she toiled in the sun.

A little blue clam shell; toddler pool-

Still in line with kitchen window-

The Frisian cows in yonder pasture

Would often come and go.

Laden fruit trees-

   Now turned spindly;

Sweet daphne flowers on-

Waving to me on gentle breezes

The warmth of Nana’s smile happened upon.

We walk away, tears still brimming;

Kids have missed out on this space-

We bid farewell to Papa’s Hill

And all we loved about this place.

©️ M.Patterson 5.8.26