– by Terry Lobdell
A flowered patch where insects hatch,
A bluebird hovers there.
Left un-mowed, for the seeds God sowed.
His colors of the rainbow to share.
A mess from a distance,
against my wife’s insistence.
So many insect hatches,
in my yard’s ragged flowered patches.
My wife’s long since left me,
but the bluebird never forgets me.
And when springtime draws near,
it’s always a beautiful song I hear.
Because of seeds God planted,
my yard is now enchanted,
for flowers and bluebirds hovering there.
