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A tribute to my Grandmother |
Somewhere a crimson rose on a snow bed lies, Somewhere out in the niht a rose now dies. Once beautiful with a lavish blush, now hastened and chastened; now crushed. This rose with petals withered round its stem now sing I this final requiem. Even now this courtyard round, has amassed their soft, sorrowful sound. Yet, in this light the wounds that fate hath shed; heal silently with blood it bled. Rest thy dear child for not all is lost, though this fragile rose hath fallen and paid a frightful cost. This loving gift from God's own hands shall show love in merciful lands. All is not lost oh grieving soul, for thou shalt know before this day is done, the reuniting of this rose now whole and one. Peace be unto the land she dwelt, and good mercy she sends in wealth. Blessings be upon thee and thine, traveling both yours and mine. In her life twas the rose fair sweet and she filled our lives joy profound but need she be far past this world To another family up above that has past her. We shall see her, this rose, again, on the day the Lord saves us and she shall smile no sores known For though a mortal heart she hath, a new immortal one guides her path. Hearken to her oh those, her children for she is not dea but living... |