by Glenn Scofield
He had such beautiful hands, thin and
Those hands could fashion fragile paper
Or form real flowers, delicate roses from
white sugar frosting.
Those hands, quick to provide whatever his
Those hands that held so many of us, the
first few steps we took,
That could smooth oil on canvas into
magnolias in a green vase,
That held the Bible to his lap as we
recited at his feet:
Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers, Deuteronomy,
Joshua, Judges, Ruth...
He had a wickedly mischievous smile, quick
honest infectious joy.
This smile, pensive, chewing on an
This smile, bent over bear claws before
This smile often had a happy distracted
hum behind it.
And a special smile, flirtatious and
Only with a high school sweetness named
After seventy-three years, that smile
still desired her kisses.
David's garden shines with color and leaf:
Blessed by light, seeded through trial,
watered with hope.
It grows a strong future for faith in
David's garden is a place wherein
Grace overcomes every grief,
Over which love flies hawk-like in the
A place where God will never abandon you.
I stand here today, one small flower in
This eternal place: full of blossoms
And morning brilliant bright.
(In memory of David Howard Scofield)
Copyright © 2001 Glenn Scofield Williams