Floated in on foamy tide,
Or wafted here by ocean breezes
Life comes to our coastline
Keen to take sure root and abide.
No farmer can create new life,
He can but husband well the soil,
And nurture roots and emerging stems,
So that nascent life will wax and thrive.
The soil’s the arbiter of new life,
It’s not man’s place to decide,
The valid judge, only Mother Earth,
As to which shall sprout and then abide.
Her dad’s printed T-shirt said “Peru”,
And feeding his five- year old, her
Jet black hair and shining eyes, they then
Rubbed noses, softly, when all through.
-p.
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