A rough, log bench at water’s edge
Pictured in mind’s eye,
Reflections on the water
Of an evening long gone by.
I see us as we were that night,
Grandmother, lake, and me.
Flannel shirt over frayed housedress
Beside denims worn with style,
Philosophies and grand ideas
Beside wisdom without guile.
She told me why the stars were hung
In the inky sea above.
A brilliant ebb and flowing dance
A ballet of starry love
To cricket song and bullfrog drum.
But I was bored with country life
And lured by rattle and hum.
“What you seek you’ll never find
In neon glow and city block.”
I longed to leave that place behind
New paths I yearned to walk.
And now I stand on memory’s shore
With Grandma once again.
The lake, and shore, and skies above,
Have gone, and gone again.
And simple wisdom I have gained,
Reflecting on the lake,
Grandma’s wisdom still remains
In who I came to be
Though different paths I take.
Credits and Attributions
Reflections on the Water by Connie J. Jasperson © 2017 All Rights Reserved
Moonrise, by Stanisław Masłowski PD 100 yrs [[File:MaslowskiStanislaw.WschodKsiezyca.1884.ws.jpg|MaslowskiStanislaw.WschodKsiezyca.1884.ws]]
Life in the Realm of Fantasy 