Little bells and dreams

I have always loved these little flowers.

There was a dense bed of them bordering my grandmother's front porch. Seeing them brings thoughts of fairies and stories - - although I don't remember any of the tales.

But I do remember
and relish
my memories of long afternoons on Granny's porch.
Her house was magic to me - a place of quiet love and peace.
Being at Granny's was a relief from the dysfunctional chaos at my home.
Without fully understanding why
I sought shelter under Granny's wings
because I knew I needed it.

People tell me these days to "nuture yourself."
The truth is I don't know how.
But I do know
I might feel better
if I could escape
into a dense patch of these little "bells"  - - -
warming myself in the sun
dreaming of a prince.

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