Would you like to hear me read this poem:
Check this out on Chirbit
I have long admired
deep cherry red
roses. Foliage blooming
with life, like your
eyes. I reach out to
run a finger along youthful
cheek. But, some things
must be carressed with the
heart. I gaze upon precious
faded images, make a
vow. Despite early pruning by
Master Gardener, you'll forever grace my
life. Artistry from one held dear,
will inspire, will be remembered.
by Margaret Bednar, 11-28-2012
I was about one and a half when my sister died, just shy of nine. I wish with all my heart I could remember her, but I don't. However, I have always felt a very strong pull towards her images in the photographs my parents took of her, their first born. I was told when she came home from the hospital, she always went straight towards my room, to see me, the baby sister she so loved.
She was an artist, I have a few of her drawings, her creations of paper doll clothes, etc. My first daughter's middle name is Susan - and she is the one who is so artistically gifted; I can't help but think Susan is smiling down from heaven, her spirit still painting.
Below is some of her art she did while in the hospital. I feel so blessed to have it.
This is for Imaginary Garden with Real Toad's - Wednesday Challenge "Personal Relationship" inspired by the poetry of Ingrid Jonker.
and a school project my oldest daughter did years ago. I was truly amazed, as I hadn't showed her Susan's paper doll clothes at the time: