I saw a rose and

thought of mom, it

was so lovely in the

morning sun. For each

petal is but a part as

the rose represents

the love of her heart.

I watched it open

every day, it was so

lovely in the month

of May. I came back

again this time in June,

but I knew this rose

would be fading soon.

When I passed this

way again in July

the sun was hot and

the petals had began

to die. I knew then

that I wouldn't return

until fall, for it's much

too hot for the rose

to bloom at all.

Then in the winter with

   no flowers to behold...

a sadness in my heart

is all I could hold.

   I thought, next year...

all the petals I will save,

then I'll sprinkle them

gently on her grave.