The Glen of the Rose

Once upon a time in days long ago...

There was a fair heart who set the world aglow.

With laughter and with art that she created from

thin air.

All manner of beauty created for others, she so cared

for all around who paid no shilling for the show.

Who came to her daily for the knowledge she would sow.

They watched in heightened admiration as she painted their

canvases full.

Making their lives sparkle. Never slowing for her toil.

Never knowing just how blank her own walls stood.

The fair hearted maiden shared everything away.

For she knew others needed the shine that she gave.

The children grew to the wonderment of raised society.

The adults grew in the knowledge that she dropped at their feet.

For instance, she taught one to not say wretch but to say reach.

Words do matter in this world of softened speech.

She taught one to sew in order to be hired.

Only to surpass the quota herself and ended up fired.

Taught one to read and pass her general education test.

Having passed one herself because hanging tobacco was

her teenage quest.

Growing up in fields of clover has its price to pay.

Sometimes she sat and wondered if a child ever saw her days?

Bless this fair maiden who has into a woman grown.

Having spent her life recording just how hard to grind bones.

As she ground hers into dust for the well being of her kin.

In return, they all moved on without her. Rarely visiting the Glen.

Leaving her to glitter alone. The years roll, Loneliness poised.

In her tiny little cottage in the Glen of the Rose.

She continued her crafts that she sold along the road.

Courage has its benefit yet no money in the wallet fits.

This old, humped over woman who upon the teenagers spit.

Teaching others to believe that they are capable of moving mountains

no matter how hard life hits.

Dark all around her, there she stands glowing still.

One of sound comfort, in a world of a fake she is real.

A beacon for the lost, for those who were left behind.

Not feeling good enough for this world of tech and moral blind.

Yet more precious than the Bahia Emerald is this Golden Jubilee of mind.

Around her, they gather and again she spouts her art.

They listen to the olden maiden with a golden heart.

Another generation of children wide-eyed and bushy tailed.

Listen to this powerful teacher who tells them they can not fail.

That all they have to do is start.

All they have to do is try.

And learn from the mistakes that they make.

Do the right things even when you in the fear shakes.

As she stayed on her hill and watched as they thrived.

Using words of wisdom from another age and time.

She taught and loved the world and sadly had to go.

This Golden Jubilee fair hearted maiden from the Glen of the Rose.