Whizzer
Gig'em
"My Mother's Flowers"
My mother had a lovely gift,
A magic touch with flowers.
She'd tend her garden every day,
And charm it with her powers.
The smallest plant would grow and grow,
No weed allowed to smother
It's efforts as it burst in bloom
To outdo every other.
When autumn came and cold winds blew,
With winters bitter chill,
She put the little plants in pots,
To line the window sill.
All winter long the pretty plants,
Had blossoms bright and gay
That seemed to bring cheer to the room,
However dark the day.
Now Mother's gone, her flowers too,
Her hands forever still.
I wonder if she tends the plants
On Heavens window sill.
My Mother wrote this in remembrance of her Mother.
It applies to my mother as I too, remember the little pots of flowers placed on the window sill.
My Mom lives with us in love and spirit.
My mother had a lovely gift,
A magic touch with flowers.
She'd tend her garden every day,
And charm it with her powers.
The smallest plant would grow and grow,
No weed allowed to smother
It's efforts as it burst in bloom
To outdo every other.
When autumn came and cold winds blew,
With winters bitter chill,
She put the little plants in pots,
To line the window sill.
All winter long the pretty plants,
Had blossoms bright and gay
That seemed to bring cheer to the room,
However dark the day.
Now Mother's gone, her flowers too,
Her hands forever still.
I wonder if she tends the plants
On Heavens window sill.
My Mother wrote this in remembrance of her Mother.
It applies to my mother as I too, remember the little pots of flowers placed on the window sill.
My Mom lives with us in love and spirit.
