Photo via Free Photo Library.
Poem (C) Pamela Schloesser Canepa, 2019
The sky covers me
With a psychedelic blanket
To cover my eyes
And warm me.
To soften the edges
Of today’s worries.
Colorful and soft,
Just like the old blanket
Grandma once made.
Grandma, with the long hair
And constant incense smell,
The tickles and hugs,
The outdoor lunches,
Afternoons with goats and dogs.
Grandma, an explosion of love
A psychedelic canvas, blanket, shirt, or sky. Colors that smile.
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PHOTO PROMPT © Fatima Fakier Deria
Ghosts in the Garden. (c) 2018 by Pamela Schloesser Canepa
“Jimi Hendrix is on the left, and that’s Mother Theresa next to him.” Grandma arranged a plate of cookies.
“Are these for me?” her grandson asked hopefully.
“No, silly. I have to serve them. How often do I get such prestigious guests?”
He sighed. “Interesting combination of guests.” She always had such a great imagination. It just seemed to be getting wilder every day.
“Indeed it is. Do you know what they all have in common?”
“They love the same brand of peanut butter.” She smiled down at her platter of peanut butter cookies.
Ghosts in the Garden is written on this day of miracles, Easter Sunday, in response to the weekly prompt challenge presented at Rochelle-Wisoff-Fields- Addicted to Purple