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Upon The Hill

by Lynn Barany
(Victoria, B.C. Canada)

The roses smell so sweetly
Behind the picket fence,
The grass is rich and green
It gives off a fresh cut scent.

The lilacs are in full bloom
The veranda has been swept,
One glance the eye can see
How well the garden has been kept.

The shadow in the window
Shows an old, but gentle soul,
I heard she took up residence
Not too long ago.

No one seems to know
How she keeps her home alive,
There is never any outside help
And no visitors stop by.

She enjoys her solitude
Each, and every day,
She is sometimes seen at midnight
I hear the neighbours say.

As they watch her in the moonlight
They say it gives them chills,
For she is intently speaking
To someone upon the hill.

I hear she turns quite beautiful
When the moon shines down so bright,
To me there isn't any doubt
To whom she speaks at night.

I'm told she' still in good health
Violets bloom on her window sill,
And I think she owes it all
To her friend upon the hill....

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