Bubbles in the Garden

A Poem


Mr. Thomas Farrell, Lit Mag, Contributor

Tiffany Lynn, we named her.

Four syllables.

Three strands of beautiful brunette hair.

Two doting parents.

One, even better, heart.

Zero. Worries.


She resembled her mother’s looks.

Her father’s sociable personality got the best of her,

Saying hello to everyone and anyone in sight.

She had an obsession with


They took over –

her room

her toys

her wardrobe.


“Tiffany Turns 3!”

The party invite said.

My wife used icing to put flowers on the cake.

My mother got her a new bloom dress.

And I planted a huge garden in the backyard for my baby girl.

Roses, dandelions, daisies, and even a couple sunflowers.

She loved the garden and I loved her smile.


“Daddy, come blow bubbles with me in our garden!”


Tiffany Lynn, we named her.


Zero. Worries.