The Keeping Space
“Oh dear,” she exclaimed
surveying the room.
Her guest stumbled in,
“Should I loan you my broom?”
The Keeper just smiled,
“No, I do have my own.”
Her needs were so few,
after so long alone.
She pulled down some cups,
“Would you care for some tea?”
Her bins overflowed!
“Kind of you to visit me.”
The room dimly lit
showing all that she owned
was thick with dust and
her guest soon bemoaned,
“How can you live in
such disarray while,
smiling, you ask
if I want tea today?
Slowly she turned
to face her accuser.
“I may not be much
of a dust cloth user,”
She smiled sweetly
“When it comes to it
you didn’t submit
a direction
for inspection
of my worth.”
She sighed..
I may not live in
sparkling clean bliss,
my work has thus been
far greater than this.
Beyond that door
you just breezed through
is where I toil
and what I must do
I am the Keeper
of the garden you see
Nature depends on
the ‘dull’ folks like me
to plant, prune and plow,
fetch water from the stream~
encouraging tendrils
and kisses from sunbeams!
It occurs to me now,”
she said as she bristled,
“I’m neglecting my work.”
The tea kettle whistled.
“I’m afraid there’s no time,
thank you for coming,”
She opened the door,
her fingers drumming.
Flustered and fuming
her guest swept away.
She grabbed up her broom
and cried, “Happy day!”
Then brushing the dirt
off of the stones
she smiled to herself
“Silly old bones.”
“For all of her wealth
she can’t see the worth
of song on the wind
and gems from the earth.”
The Keeper then knelt
‘neath an old sprawling tree.
“Thank you dear Mother
for this gift you gave me.
As long as I live
I’ll toil with my heart,
tending our garden
until life I part.
Cheryl K Pennington
Copyright words 2023
Image by Susan Rushton
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