Every year, when the days
Begin to shorten
And summer camp ends
Bloom in my garden.
The King in His glory
Comes down to the field.
I am sure He has come
To enjoy my flowers
And comfort me as I
Struggle to bid summer goodbye.
"Your majesty, please wait a moment.
I'll come out to greet You,
Perhaps invite You for a cup of tea
And a freshly baked muffin" I beg.
The King smiles as I explain
"I just have to change the baby’s diaper,
Sweep the kitchen floor
And wipe Yankee’s nose.
Then I can greet Your Majesty
In my new peach silk suit."
The King is holding a pad and pencil.
He removes His crown
And casts aside His purple cloak,
Hiding them behind the bushes.
I see Him writing something
And humming softly as he writes.
I try to take a peek at His notes
But the pad disappears into
The pocket of his vest.
The phone rings.
Malka’s mom is in hospital.
Could I please watch Mendy and Esty
While she brings her a hot Kosher lunch?
I hesitate long enough to realize
That my date with the King will have to wait.
In my stained gray housecoat
I prepare macaroni and cheese.
"Maybe tomorrow, Your Majesty"
I mumble with a sigh
I wonder what He’s written
About me in His pad.
Next day I’m so busy
Buying school supplies
That I nearly forget the king.
Paper is on sale at the local store
At 29 cents a pack.
They also have 2 inch blue binders
But Miri’s teacher demands one
That is three inches wide
So off we go to another store.
Brochy needs colored pencils,
Berry needs markers, and Ricky
Must have a package of 24 crayons.
Tomorrow is the first full day of school.
Yippee! I hope the King will wait.
My new mixer is missing a beater.
Oh, there it is, under the instruction manual.
Just in time to bake a honey chiffon cake.
Oh, no! There is no honey left in my pantry.
I dress the baby and run to strap him into the car seat.
The car is gone. I forgot that today is Thursday.
Gershon always drives to work on Thursdays so he can be on time
after hearing the Torah reading.
I grab my Peg Perego and start pushing uphill.
I run home, sweating in the late summer heat.
The King is waiting in my garden,
Scribbling in His little book.
Tomorrow I’ll surely invite Him in
and serve Him some fresh honey cake.
I’ll apologize and explain how busy I’ve been.
I’ll ask for His forgiveness
for ignoring Him so long.
Perhaps if I sing His praises
He’ll reward me
With a smile,
A golden coin,
Or a royal blessing.
The King waits patiently in my garden.
The flowers begin to wilt.
Every day is filled to the brim.
Somehow there is no time
For me to welcome Him.
One day He takes His crown out
From behind the bushes.
He puts His pad and pencil
Into His pocket
And dons His Royal cloak.
After a brief conversation
On His Blackberry phone
A coach pulls up.
I run to my car and follow Him.
"Please, please, come back."
The tall gate opens
And the coach disappears.
I pound on the door and beg to be admitted.
"Please let me apologize to the King.
Please show me what’s written in His book."
A messenger returns.
The King is on His throne.
He cannot come back.
Within 10 days He will send you an email.
I wipe my brow and get back into
My stuffy Toyota.
I drive home and pray
For the King’s forgiveness.
Ten days pass. Long days.
My clicking finger trembles.
That’s strange. The king’s letter
Is entitled "Thank you"
The King is busy.
His email is short.
"Thank you, My daughter,
For helping me take care of My world.
You’re doing a great job.
You need not serve Me honey cake.
Each time you take care of your family
You are serving Me.
You are inscribed for a sweet new year.
As sweet as your honey cake."
I cut the remaining flowers
And bring them in from my garden
It is time to say goodbye to summer,
And greet the new year.