On her front porch she whittles her heart.
Shavings fall into wooden puddles of art.
Above, the clouds anticipate her musings.
Bluebirds upon her shoulders sit and sing.
Her long grey hair falls against her beauty.
Her cats and dogs fast asleep, faithful duty.
Inspiration comes as the sun breaks in day.
Eyes of light dancing, a porch swing sways.
Roses bloom as the old woman carves love.
Her graceful hands fitted with God’s gloves.
Mere moments of celebration in her creation.
Her heart, now a flute, plays a hymn of elation.
Kathy Paysen 2013