From The Past

Today I found a treasure,
arising from the past,
twas wrapped in faded paper,
tied with tattered lace,
 
It was safely hidden in the corner,
of an old dusty chest,
I opened the lid,
a song of old filled the air,
  
Feeling mildly seductive,
I danced around the room,
soft and nostalgic was the tune,
closing my eyes, I saw my mother,
 
She wore a flowing green gown,
sunlight glinting on her soft red hair,
dad holding her tightly in his arms,
as they laughed and twirled around,
mom softly clucthing,
her tiny music box.

Roses For Mother

I gave her twelve soft red roses
      As silken tokens of my love
And so I gave one dozen
 
One for her voice, soft as velvet
      As clear as chimes, a song of love
I gave her twelve soft red roses
  
these say to her, how much I care
      For all things of her heart
and so I gave one dozen
 
For all the laughter shared 
     and all the love,she gave to me
I gave her twelve soft red roses
 
 I said, with these budding roses
     thanks from the depth of my heart
and so I gave one dozen
 
I gave to her a gift,
     wrapped it in with artful care
I gave her twelve soft red roses
And so, I gave one dozen.

In The Midst

On The terrace,
a glow has fallen by the way,
flirting with the silver clouds,
I think of you,
A silent tear, trickles down my mournful face,
even though neglected,
your lovely white rose is thriving,
across the field,
a tiny vireo, sings like a virtuoso,
The fence row is draped with yellow jasmine,
your favorite flower,
as I turn to go inside,
I feel your presence in the shadows, watching me,
I hear your laughter,
soft as a silver bell,
I know, you will always be here,
on the terrace,
amidst the sounds and sights you love.

Seasons Of Love

Mother,
You sooth and still,
a lost tears way,
you dwelleth here,
between the rise and rest,
of a season,
all of loves dreams,
are in the light,
a part of heaven,
to fill my garden,
soft as prayer,
chimes drift in the night,
song fill the light,
sunbeams do touch, 
my hearts delight,
On a single pink flower,
the eye of heaven shines.

White Farm House

The old farmhouse still stands,
a bit beaten from neglect,
peeling paint, tattered and worn,
mom's roses spill forward,
weeping for care,
blackberries tumble over,
the broken fence row,
the great barn, is looking forlorn,
If I listen carefully,
the sound of dad's tractor,
can be heard,
coming up the gravel road,
closing my eyes,
I can see mom,
coming out onto the big front porch,
hugs and kisses for everyone,
the smell of vanilla, softly clings,
the children run inside,
to each take a turn,
sliding down the banister,
laughter ringing throughout,
moments in time,
a treasure of memories,
always leading back to,
the white farm house.

Magic Pie

We always knew when mom was making pie,
mom's eyes would sparkle,
as we watched with anticipation,

mom never measured ingredients,
she knew the right amount, 
  "I believe she added stardust"
Or some "Ab-ra-ca-dab-ra"
 
My sister was always "first"
to lick the warm chocolate from the pan,
with a twinkle in her eye,
she would give us a smile,
 
No one could make chocolate pie,
as good as mom's, try as we might,
mom held the magic,
 "For Making Chocolate Pie"

Babbling Brook

The sound of water,
trickling over the falls,
thumping the rocks below,
soothing and calming,
as I hurry along,
today is your birthday,
I have your favorite red roses,
a gift of love,
to reside at your tombstone,
blue and yellow balloons,
released into the morning light,
a special song is in my heart,
a daughter was never more loved,
my eyes fill with tears,
I want you to know,
how deeply you are loved,
as I sing this tune,
happy birthday, mother,
and thank you,
for giving life to me, 
     I
      shall
         always
             love
                 You.