Dress Her In Indigo


She loved me so fully,
Deep into my pores,
Down into her creases of worry,
And my furrows of doubts.
Her essence oozes
From the shadow in the corner hall,
From the borders of lavender
Round the breakfast window boxes and sills.

Her children will miss her so
Her visions of their future,
Her hopes for all their naive dreams.
They will miss her painting their garden world
In a complex of pansies,
And the innocence of susans and daisies,
Of iris, and bougainvillea,
And the trellis of roses she held so dear.

She loved us as a onion,
Every layer entwined yet unique.
A wench and a lady.
An apron and an anvil.
Strong and tender,
Soft and oh how satin sublime.

Please dress her in Indigo
Before you close the lid.
She so loved the evening sky,
When the stars spoke of riches
Silver on sapphire, her heaven sublime.
Dress her in indigo, the color of her eyes.