Even The Sweetest Of Flowers... Poem by Brett White

Even the sweetest of flowers must fade and die,
But let it ne'er drop a tear from thine eye.
Mother, sweet Mother: thou art fairer than fair,
God made thee perfect, without an errant hair.
My love for thee traverses time and space,
Your blessèd Soul only an Angel could replace.
When all the maidens broke thy baby boy's heart,
Like an ancient oak's roots: thou did not depart.
Today I am poor in pocket, but paying my tithes:
In honour of my Mom, also the goodliest of wives.
Though apart in body awhile we have been,
I love you in Spirit til I hug you again.
I offer instead, wild petunias and prose,
It mimics your grace, as with age it grows.
Thank you for answering all of my collect calls,
And I hope God's blessings for you He ne'er stalls.
For thou art my heart in human form,
May God shelter you from harm through every storm.
Dad chose well, and please pray that I do too,
Forever and ever your son truly loves you!