Mother’s Day marks the planting of marigolds,
a tradition started so long ago.
I can still see you at the front sidewalk,
planting them neatly, all in a row.
You’ll care for these plants all summer long,
making sure they have all that they need.
Caring for them, nurturing them,
so they can be the best they can be.
By July they’ll have made their place in this world,
strong, beautiful and stunning.
As you water each day, you’ll look on them lovingly,
proud of what they’re becoming.
By August they’ll be in full bloom,
bursting and awesome and new.
The pride you exhibit makes me think that each bloom
may shout, “Yes! I’m proud of me too!”
You cared for the marigolds like you cared for me,
with love, encouragement and nurturing.
And because of that, I’ve lived my life
growing, thriving and flourishing.
So I’ll plant my marigolds on Mother’s Day this year,
like I’ve done every year since your passing.
As a tribute to you, for the time that you spent
with the results of your efforts long lasting.
Happy Mother’s Day, Mom.
Love, Debbie
May, 2010
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Another great poem, I felt the direction you were taking, great read.
Thank you!
Love the poem, Deb. How well I remember the days and the love you gave to your mom.
Thank you, Gordon.