Friday, November 11, 2011
Rose Jelly Made By Rose
The glass jar clear and fragile,
like memories it holds of yesterday.
Road side wild roses awaited her,
on the way to Shinnecock Bay.
Dark red petals with intoxicating scent
Her spirit joyous, her hands gentle,
she made jelly sweet with love.
Grandma's hands, grandma's voice, grandma's grace.
The glass vessel clear and fragile,
summer recollections whisper of framed snapshots.
Hidden away in a dark cupboard,
twenty one years she's been gone,
yet the glass jar remains sealed,
saved memories timeless, honored and cherished.
This is dedicated to Nevart Sheshedian. My husband's wonderful grandmother.
He has shared countless memories about the great spirit that she possessed. This week he was tempted to open the jar . He wanted to taste her rose jelly once again. The jar is frozen shut by sugar. He was afraid that it would break. This inspired me to write this for Six Word Fridays where our word for this week is saving. Meet us here http://melissacamarawilkins.com/blog/2011/11/11/six-word-fridays-saving/ to read other offerings.