Rocks

Rocks

My husband
Brings home rocks
And sets them,
Like a treasure,
In the middle of the table.

I don’t know what to do
With all of them.
They are interesting,
Most of them, to look at,
But numerous,
And not a part
Of the decorating plan.

There are photographs,
Sculptures and paintings,
Books and clocks-
And rocks.

I set them along edges,
In window sills,
Line them up on the porch.

And when I think
I’ve taken care
Of all of them,

He brings home another,
Fascinated and proud
And sets it
In the middle of the table.

 

By Maria Brady-Smith

Photo by Mike Smith

6 thoughts on “Rocks

  1. I am a husband of a woman who can relate to this beautiful poem. I thank my sister-in-law for sharing it with me. I showed it to my wife and she grinned from ear to ear. I am that rock collector to the letter, but I am doubly blessed. My wife likes to go with me rock hunting. Thank you very much for the homage to rock hunting widows (and for being so kind to their rock headed husbands

    1. Its hard to get mad at somebody who so sincerely loves the treasures that he finds:) I am just glad he is not as fascinated about snakes! Thanks for taking the time to read it!

  2. I am lucky to have a man who shares this passion with me. He has brought home many rocks he finds shaped like hearts just for me. We always bring home interesting rocks. Also like my cousin Randy Schwentker, we look for treasures at the river bank. Thanks Maria!

    1. Oh, man. I bet you find amazing rocks! You definitely seem to have the eye!!

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