Straight From The Hart

  SPRING IN THE OZARKS By Joan Hart The spring equinox arrived weeks ago And the sun began warming the earth Alerting the trees and the shrubs to awaken Tis the season to bring forth new birth. The gardens spring up in rejoicing, The lettuce and onions come through Awaiting the gardeners first picking, Awash in the morning’s first dew. A profusion of blooms fills the hillside, Reflections of the artist Monet A mingling of colors, indescribable In one glorious pattern arrayed. Green is spring’s favorite color Her palette overflows with its hues It’s verdancy bathes every hillside The trees overlapping in queues. The season is pregnant with promise Of bright summer days yet to come With beaches and playgrounds and picnics And games in the ball stadium Spring doesn’t stay long in the Ozarks Its days turn to summer too soon So we treasure each moment and smell every lilac As April and May turn to June. There is nothing like spring in the Ozarks, There’s just no better place to live The ear

 AN OLD COUPLE'S HOUSE An Old Couple’s House  Have you ever been in an old couple’s house? Tis really a grand sight to see It’s an eclectic assortment of Ma  and Pa Kettle With a little bit of Fibber McGee. There are trashcans and Kleenex beside every chair Newspapers on tables stacked high There are piles of books waiting for a” just in case” moment And lamps bright for tired old eyes There are antiques and junque everywhere that you look And most are covered with dust And visitors have no comprehension Why we keep them, but we know we must Each one a reminder of days now gone by All the things we have loved through the years No meaning for others, but to us they are gold In our memories they bring happy tears The dishes are old, with faded vintage design The cups and the saucers don’t match The bowls of all sizes lopsidedly sit Now they’re part of just one mingled batch. The bed with mixed patterns of pillows and sheets Sits between bedside tables that hold All the pills that are

  TOUCHES AND HUGS AND TEARS This world has become such a frightening place With conflicts o’er politics, global warming and race We all long to feel  just a loving embrace Of touches and hugs and tears. Friends seem so few and hard to find We reach out for comfort, seeking old ties that bind A time when people were friendly, and gentle and kind We so need touches, and hugs and tears. The warmth of  a hug in a feeling so close That comes from the heart of a loved one who knows The sadness you feel, and their sympathy shows In their touches, and hugs and tears. Tears are meant to be shared in times of despair They show us the nature of someone who cares They fall from the eyes as warm liquid prayers These days call for touches and hugs and tears. © Joan Rowden Hart 2021