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Violets in Clay Pots

Each morning as I come into my office and sit down in front of my computer to work, I’m greeted by three pots of lovely, lacy violets.  They were one of the first things I placed on my desk. I grow them because my mother grew them. And I remember her and feel her presence as I lovingly care for them.

Violets in Clay Pots

My mom grew pink and purple violets
In clay pots on our windowsill.

Lovely, lacy single and double blossoms
With velvety leaves of forest green.

Graceful fingers pinched back dead flowers
With such practiced skill.

Coaxed the delicate plants to yield
The most beautiful blooms I‘d ever seen.

Daily she talked and sang to her violets
Touched and stroked them. Motherly.

That I could have been one of her violets
So she could have sung to me.

-by C. L. Gillmore, Copyright 2010

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