OLIVE HANNA ❏ I wish that I was dumb and could not speak For then I’d waste no time on useless speech Be tempted not to gossip or to screech beliefs
Just to impress I wish that I was blind and could not see The turmoil and the stress of this poor world The beauties seen, the smell and feel of life Would comfort me
OLIVE HANNA ❏ In one corner of a rectangular gazebo in my garden, partly hidden by the leaves of a Clematis vine not yet in bloom, I noticed a bird’s nest. When I took a closer look, I saw it was perfectly finished, undamaged and as yet unused. I marveled at the precision and skill of that simple bird whose identity was still unknown to me. I decided not to mention anything to Brad, my gardener, because I knew there was not much he could do about the noise level while he cut the grass. Hoping for the best, I crossed my fingers and continued my garden work.
OLIVE HANNA ❏ Summer mornings are best enjoyed in a warm sunny garden. Add a cup of coffee and, for me, it feels like heaven. Sipping my way along the flower beds, I feel like a detective searching for evidence the perennials have made it through another winter. By mid-May, once the garden outline reappears, I happily settle into a feeling of relief and renewed expectation.
OLIVE HANNA ❏ Lightly pricking Quickly forming droplets On the speckled pane Softly dancing, gaily prancing Jutting, creasing, quite insane Surging swiftly, glutting nift’ly Lagging spreading all around Moving slowly almost threadlike
OLIVE HANNA ❏ When I was young, my mother said of me, “I don’t know what to do with Olive. She is like many pieces of wool, not enough in any piece to knit anything.” I could not have described myself better. Being good at many things but not great at any perhaps served me best. I see my life as a gift to share: a tapestry of love for people and nature woven by time in a quiet and joyful heart, forever open to change.
