She always loved chrysanthemums,
Those long-lived strong proud stems,
topped with blooms of vibrant colour,
survive all other flowers
until December frost.
She lived through four and ninety autumns,
and now her time is come.
In peace she lies in willow casket
adorned with bright chrysanthemums,
her mortal journey done.
They bring such joy, chrysanthemums;
my mum, too,
brought happiness to all she met,
strength to family and friends.
In spirit she still brings us joy
just like chrysanthemums.
Poet's Notes about The Poem
Comments about this poem (ChrysantheMum by William Messent )
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