A Rose For Mom

A tiny rose held in a trembling hand.

Green leaves, a halo from a gift of the land.

Treasures on a small bush, memories made anew.

I see mom where once this tiny flower grew.



Dressed in fine yellow lace, she yields to the morning sun.

Lying among thorns of golden dreams, is the soul of her son.

Placing the tiny bud upon the green sod with tender care,

I find my heart is bound to a moment that is no longer there.