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Red Currants
“Well! The red currants must be picked to-day.
They’re ready for jelly” Grandmother would say.
She never wasted words yet had her way.
In cool gray cotton gown, and black straw hat
Securely tied--She made a point of that
Though no breeze stirred the lilacs where she sat
To superintend old Jock and Marie Anne
At tasks of picking. When her palm-leaf fan
Waved slowly all was well; but my blood ran
Quicker when it moved very fast ... one knew
The hours were slipping past ... then old Jock too
And Marie Anne, would pick with greater zest.
“Granny! Red currant jelly’s much the best!”
“Black’s best for colds” she’d say, as she caressed
With firm kind fingers my rough curly head.