My mother hangs memories
on the wall of her garden
in the land where her grandparents toiled,
on a wall in the garden
are my mother’s memories
that not autumn, winter or summer can spoil.
There are tea pots and trinkets
and there are trophies and tack
and mirrors watching time brushing past,
and a blue bird, once my bird,
upon the side of my crib
proving somethings from childhood can last.
My mother has memories
now rooted in her garden
next to bushes and berries in bloom,
there are things that can tickle
and there are things that can touch
and things that were broken or just had no room.
My mother’s hanging hope
on the walls in her garden
to cradle the heart in when it’s cold,
in the heart there’s a garden
where we cradle the grace
that my mother plants just like it were gold.
Words and Photographs by Damien B. Donnelly, the Grace and Garden by Mona Donnelly
Audio version available at Soundcloud:
https://soundcloud.com/damien-donnelly-2/grace-in-the-garden
Damien B. Donnelly 
I love this. ❤
Thank you! My mum gets all the credit for this!!
What a lovely idea. She’s a very special lady.
She really is! Xx
Anyone who would give her baby a blue bird to hang in his crib has my vote 🙂
I guess the blue bird brought the poetry!
Something did. Maybe you were born beneath a rowan tree.
How wonderful an idea! Lovely words to describe her memories, and yours 😊
Thank you Dorinda! The garden makes us all smile as does my mum
I have always wished I understood and could write poetry. In saying this, your writing about you Mother was simple yet elegant. Thank you for sharing.
Thank you Chuck. Thank you for reading. My mum deserves this little tribute. Best wishes
That’s so sweet!
thanks my dear. Greetings xx
Aww, a true fairy garden!
You beautifully conveyed the feeling of this place in photographic and word-images.
Love the pictures of a garden in every heart and of your mother having her special way of planting grace.
Much love,
Steffi
She has grace in her fingers I think