Ah, beautiful Sabbath morning
All is calm, all is bright
Bees bob about the unflinching faces of the hollyhocks
A humming bird assessed the lay of the land
before speeding off
Beau naps soundly at my feet
I am here, and I see
This old stone house
How many Sundays has it been full
Full of bustle, the aroma of scalloped potatoes,
Chatter and laughter,
New dresses and buckled mary janes,
Buttoned shirts and hair slicked back
Today lends itself to the calm and the quiet
I sit here
In a red Muskoka chair
Facing northeast
The water of the falls – wet and musical
Soon I must go
And slip on my own Sunday dress
And sample my potato salad
Making sure it is fit
For our mothers.
