Ode to a Great Grandmother

[ShaneWells]

There was a vast garden
Where the sunflowers and roses roamed.
The bees and hummingbirds flew,
Flying and pollinating, a beautiful view.

But to the right, was a dead patch of Earth,
Where nothing had grown for a very long time.
Much too long to go back and trace the roots
Of decay that now laid its claims.

But one day came a sprout,
A stubborn, green bud.
And the decay watched with dismay,
And sent weeds to bring it down.

The gardener tore them away.
The gardener kept an eye on her bud.
With water and care, she hoped it could stray
Away from the destruction that was the decay.

And it fought very long,
Nearly wilted once or twice.
And the gardener passed into another life.
Leaving the bud alone to fight.

The decay, with a smile, doubled its efforts.
And it came in its waves of acid and pain,
But it was too late, and the bud had grown too tall.
And that bud looked down at the garden flowers,
As it outgrew them all.
But in the end,
The bud always knew.
It could never, ever have grew.
If not for the gardener in you.

[Sasha]

That was really a great ode to her! I was engaged by the narrative here, the image of her character you put in reader's mind; a caring, loving grandmother with that bud that can be a metaphor for the speaker, or whatever she raised as a child or just someone, and the ending was simply beautiful!
Much enjoyed.

Sash

[Chelle]

Such a lovely metaphor! It works exactly to convey the idea you wanted and I think it's very fitting. I thought of my own grandmother and smiled to myself. Thanks for sharing and I hope to read more from you!

[dwells]

I'm sure that Grandma is smiling down as you wrote this fine tribute Shane, and the bud has grown into a man. A wonderful metaphor to be sure - cheers to you (and Grandma)!

[AuroraRayne]

Well worthy of a title baring the word ode in it.