Forty-two
by Mrs. Hill (Grade 7 English Teacher)

The backdrop of my yard,
much like the routine of my life,
adds beauty,
shows control

In the light,
the variety of green
dances upon the new mulch,
the carefully tended prunings.
Colorful surprises smile at me,
begging for a close up inspection,
acknowledging my control.

But what happens when
I'm not there?
Where is the beauty
and MY control?

In the dark,
madness.

I wake to find beauty missing,
my desires ignored,
nighttime thieves scoffed at my control,
even death.

Then a new day begins,
and I rise with hope
to return control
to try again to reach out
to build anew something
I'll be proud of -- a display of work to prove all efforts weren't in vain.

Sun sets

I'm hopeful

I know I've done enough
to motivate beauty to grow

Sun rises
I'm disappointed

The morning light
harshly shining on the reality of destruction

Why won't things grow as I have hoped?
My careful, repeated nurturing efforts ignored

I'm angry!

I try again
with new methods

Sun sets
I'm hopeful

Sun rises
I smile at a surprise
I shake my head at another disappointment

Days creep on
Suns rise and set
My heart knows
I am not in control