Grandma's Garden

She picks up the boy and he sits on her knee.
"There they are! There's the fairies, they're flitting about."
"I see," says his Grandma without any doubt.

The boy sits there watching, his face all aglow,
What a magnificent, magical show.
His eyes close in slumber, he drifts off to sleep,
Grandma lays him in bed. He makes not a peep.

Twilight is falling, a cool breeze does blow,
Moon shining down on the garden below.
Quiet descends, all creatures have fled.
Flowers closed tight. The garden's in bed.

Copyright © 2002 - 2005 Mary M. Alward
Do not use without permission.

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