Momma leaned to stroke her flowers
And to sniff their sweet perfume.
She loved every bud we brought her,
Nursed them gently to full bloom.
We’d have bought her anything
Because she was so dear;
But when asked, she begged for flowers
In the Spring of every year.
We loved to gather at our Momma’s
Where we’d laugh and talk for hours;
Momma loved it when we showed up
To her house of love and flowers.
We place flowers on her grave now
With a note of who they’re from,
Because our Momma loved her flowers
And we kids all loved our mom.
copyright © 2015 by moleta ruth mccarer. all rights reserved.
