Quiet little songs she'd sing, to make a winter turn to
spring
Songs for bulbs, songs for seeds, sung to satisfy their
needs
Careful spacing, row on row, promised life to make them
grow
Singing softly while she'd toil, adding love to barren
soil.
Quiet little songs she'd sing, while surely summer
followed spring
Songs for sunshine, songs for showers, blooming forth a
choir of flowers
Harmonic colours, row on row, scents now added to the
show
Softly sweet with rainbow praise, lending love to summer
days.
Quiet songs, now sung no more, silence makes the heart
grow sore
What hope now in muted hours, who will nurture next
year's flowers
Where the singer? Where the love? Gone too soon to up
above
Quiet now, her little song, bitter winter comes along.
Quiet little songs she sings, no more winter, sweet warm
springs
Songs of living, songs of knowing, love is needed for the
growing
Watching tender sparks of life, devoted mother, loving
wife
Gardening yet, while gently bringing, joy to all things
in her singing.
Original story © Angus Sloan 2015
Layout, editing and additional material © Dave Sloan 2016
'tachras' and 'Winding Yarn' © Dave Sloan 2005, 2012, 2016