My Own Small Way

I decided this summer,

As I watched my Flag wave,

I’d save which was once lost,

In my own small way.

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With renewed hope and delight,

Plans were laid out,

As I dreamed through the night.

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In the cool of the morning,

My work would begin,

Planting and digging were gardens had been.

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With the sweat of my brow on 90 degree days,

I’d press through the heat wiping my face.

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The moisture of salt mixed with my tears,

Remembering the former beauty of my garden’s earlier years.

“Tears are the summer showers to the soul.” Alfred Austin

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Day after day,

Going back out at first light.

I’d press to restore her,

It only seem right.

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In her kindness and sweet morning refrain,

She draws me to her moist soil,

As my Flag bravely waves.

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“And now, Lord,

what do I wait for?

My hope is in You.”

Psalm 39:7 NKJV

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Alfred Austin was an English Poet Laureate in 1896.

Born May 30, 1835-Died June 2, 1913.

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Poem and photographs by denisebalogc2021