"Forget me, not", the last sweet words, from mother's lips, that e'er, I heard, whispered, so low, with precious breath, her last, that left me, so bereft.
There is no way, that e'er I could forget a heart, so sweet and good,
so kind, and caring, always there, so willing, to my burdens, share.
My life was blessed, in myriad ways, and filled, with laughter, were my days.
From tender years, when my whole world, around her presence, warmly furled, to first steps, that she let me take, away, from her, my way, to make, she was so wise, encouraging, and subtly, ever strengthening.
These flowers, sprinkled, with my tears, are testament, to blessed years, that she gave, of her heart's largesse, her care, for me, her gentleness.
I leave them, here, to catch sun's rays, remembrance, of each precious day, tears, sparkling, as her spirit shone, that precious mother, all my own.
"Forget me, not"? "No, mother, fine, your spirit walks, always, with mine.
There is no way, I ever would; there is no way, I ever could forget the blessings, you bestowed; you live, in me, where e'er, I go.
"Forget me, nots", these flowers, blue, will ever, make me think, of you.
I hear your whispers, where, they grow; your spirit's with me, still, I know."
There is no way, that e'er I could forget a heart, so sweet and good,
so kind, and caring, always there, so willing, to my burdens, share.
My life was blessed, in myriad ways, and filled, with laughter, were my days.
From tender years, when my whole world, around her presence, warmly furled, to first steps, that she let me take, away, from her, my way, to make, she was so wise, encouraging, and subtly, ever strengthening.
These flowers, sprinkled, with my tears, are testament, to blessed years, that she gave, of her heart's largesse, her care, for me, her gentleness.
I leave them, here, to catch sun's rays, remembrance, of each precious day, tears, sparkling, as her spirit shone, that precious mother, all my own.
"Forget me, not"? "No, mother, fine, your spirit walks, always, with mine.
There is no way, I ever would; there is no way, I ever could forget the blessings, you bestowed; you live, in me, where e'er, I go.
"Forget me, nots", these flowers, blue, will ever, make me think, of you.
I hear your whispers, where, they grow; your spirit's with me, still, I know."
By Donna L. Ferguson Dudley, copyright 2019 5/01/19
Artist Lynne Bellchamber Fine Art
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