Dauvitt and His Meg

If an old house could fix itself; cure rot, grow a roof
Renew the faded paint , the pipes and all
Or a new house shape itself to old truth
Like comfortable curves in a warm shawl;
Then new and old alike would have your grace.
The love and work clear in each dear face.

If a wild rose in winter bloomed in petal scented snow
And daffodils in autumn leaves could shine
Or tomatoes, sprung from mustard seeds below,
Grow gem-coloured fruit with taste divine;
Even wet with salt spray from the ocean
That harvest could not match your loving devotion.

If a fishing boat and crew can find its way in ice, fog, storm
With men and boat arrived at last at home so fair
To women who await blessed morn
By wall and shore, bound by silent prayer;
You are, beloved friends, through trial and wind
Blessed by God, by family, and friends.

copyright maeve in Maine August 12, 2008 all rights reserved