Roses have lined everything
Since the day I was born.
Earliest memories... color.
Every since I can remember
My mother has had that garden.
Every year the things there change
But she has always had those roses.
Every shape and every size,
Every color you can think.
Never do I recall a time
When her roses did not bloom.
I remember my dog out in the yard,
A tradition she did start;
For every summer she chose a rose
To cut her little nose upon.
And when we moved some states away
It was the same type of rose
That hit the scar for fifteen years
She proudly opened anew.
And when she died we didn't stop,
On her grave went another rose,
My mother she always chose best
And planted a Mister Lincoln
To honor the oldest scar.
The gardens have been big and small,
Sometimes with vegetables, herbs, and fruits,
Others just flowers galore.
I remember the veggie garden
We planted together, I was only four.
We grew veggies for my pets,
And grew them well we did.
Then one day, among the vines
A yellow squash did appear.
We stared in joy, this only squash
Had invaded our land and dreams.
I never grew to garden my own,
But have always loved those flowers.
Those roses have been there from the start,
And more come with each new year.
Some day I know the garden will stop
And the grass will overcome.
But no matter where I go or what I do,
I'll plant a rose there for two.
For the dog so curious a Mister Lincoln,
And for my mother... the perfect rose.
Author notes
I have lived in three towns in my life, and every time my mother has had a garden. None so big as the current one, which is where she finally hurt her back and had to let the garden get overgrown. Of course, mom's favorite flower is the rose. Right now, she has 17 full size rose bushes and 10 miniature rose bushes growing in the yard. Plus one climbing rose. The colors are unreal. Purple, yellow, fuschia, orange, black, maroon, you name it, she probably either has it or something out there has gotten mixed with another and speckled itself several colors.
The rose above is one of my mother's roses.
Written November 8th, 2005
In a list
A contest entry
- Tell Me of The Past by Diverse One.
300 points, ended April 19, 2006, 11 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
What did you think
Comments
1 - 5 of 5
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What nice memories and very well written. Sincerity always shines through. I enjoyed reading this very much.
Sincerely, the last knight
Edited on Sep 14, 1:38 because 'correction of spelling'. -
This sounds like such a nice place. Her yard must be spectacular.
Maybe you will learn to grow roses and carry on for her. I can almost smell the sweetness
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How beautiful is your mother's rose. I always wanted a green thumb, but I was blessed with only eyes to see the beauty but not with the ability to grow them. I am thankful for my ability to appreciate the beauty in things.
Your poem is so beautifully written with love and pride pouring from every word. I love how you tell of your vegetables and the lone yellow squash. Such sweet memories you have. Hugs, Patricia ♥
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WOW.. This is a very beautiful descritive poem and the picture is bery beautiful too!!! You did a great job!!!
Hugs,
Beth
PS Check out my contest!!! allpoetry.com/contest/1615245 -
this is lovely. Just recently we had 2 squash just pop up from nowhere .. We put them in soup and ummm yummy. I'm not a rose fan .. but the poem was lovely.
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