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Green Onions (Poem) - Revised

Updated on August 9, 2013

Green Onions

Spring arrived early, with a warm sunny breeze.

Caressing my face as I strolled

through the garden.

During its dawn, the wild bulbs rose.

Fresh and crisp, stems rooted deep in the


With one quick hack, they were in my hands.

Bright and green, the fresh smell of the Earth

filled my nostrils.

You smiled from the window and beckoned me in.

You washed and peeled, layer after layer,

sliced and diced, tossed and spiced, into

a colourful salad.

We sat by the window, watching

golden drops of dew. You squeezed my hand

and fed me like all grandmothers do.

Sunday noon was always special,

a spicy aroma clouding our senses,

we sat with steaming mugs of tea.

Laughter, banter, hopes and dreams.

forward another week, so we can

be together again to share life’s stories,

to cherish your wisdom.

But one Sunday I found you gone.

Hours turned into days, months became years.

I sat by the same window, but you never

came home.

Spring turned dark, my green onions turned

brown...and my tears flowed freely.


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    • Kavita Trivedi profile image

      Kavita Trivedi 4 years ago from London

      Hi ladydeonne many thanks for your comment glad you liked it

    • ladydeonne profile image

      Deonne Anderson 4 years ago from Florence, SC

      This is a lovely but sad poem about love and loss. I too spent many happy hours with my grandmother and one day she was gone, never to hug me or to sing to me ever again. Grandmothers are special aren't they? Your poem took me back to my child hood when my grandmother and I would drink tea and eat tea cakes. Sometimes when I think of tears flow freely. Thanks for sharing. Voted up and beautiful.