Gran-ma’s Cellar Door

Grand-ma’s Cellar Door

I stand and remember the wonder of this place, familiar smells are embedded forever

The three legged milking stool to stand on as she worked, with sun shining in her hair 

The herbs are still there, were there even before, as great gran-ma was most clever

By planting them by the cellar door, the door great grand-pa had built for her to share

So when winters blast came through out the land, with white seeming to go on forever,

With simmering smells floated through the warm home, the cold could not compare

The love of family around a small table, only a candle for light, a memory that last forever.

Anita Neal

Come join in with Sue Vincent’s Thursday photo writing prompt. Use the image above as inspiration to create a post on your own blog… poetry, prose, humour… light or dark, whatever you choose, by noon (GMT)  Wednesday 26th June.  Don’t forget to use the #writephoto hashtag in your title so your posts can be found.

And those who know my writing, always know I close in a reminder to be kind. Kindness is a reflection of God’s everlasting love for all things.

 

kind8

 

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