Maiden of The Blueberries

The Maiden of the Blueberries
Once I picked blue berries in a field,
And their sweat nectar healed
Any wound I may have had,
And in childish bliss I was glad.

And the maiden of the field,
Told me she would take me back to that place,
Old lines formed a smile on her face,
And her love was my shield.

She always did care,
But I grew and became more aware,
She was old and her mind was stretching thin,
Too many memories of what had once been.

We had said our good bys,
And we told no lies,
About how I loved her and she loved me,
And that is the way it will always be.

Then one day she was dead,
But only a few tears I shed,
Because the maiden of the blueberries will forever live on,
In this, her song.
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To my grandmother,
Who will always be in my heart,
Who will always be my me-maw.
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