In Memory Poem

When we began to learn to write as a child, my mother set a pad and pen in front of us and told us she would teach us to write poetry. So many times when I became upset with something, I would write a poem, and in doing just that all my anger was gone. I could look at the reason for my anger so differently. Writing poetry has helped me in more ways then one. It can bring peace, joy and happiness, like nothing else. As you write your cup runs over. Thank you, A friend in poetry, Sue

My Mother A Rose

© Sue Horley
A rose so rare,
one of its kind,
love and beauty a mother,
yes!
mine.
A rose without thorns,
not a petal was torn,
a perfect rose stood straight and tall,
my mother was the most precious of all.
A rose that survived the worst kind of weather and yet the most delicate ever,
a rose with a fragrance,
there could be know other,
you see this rose is my Mother.
A rose is picked and put to dry,
the beauty is still there,
it never dies.

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Published: Jan 2008

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  • Sue,
    As I began reading this poem, my eyes filled with tears. My mom passed on 6-17-08. She too was a rare rose indeed. This is one of the best poems I have read in a while. Thank you so much for sharing. My mom loved roses, but she never realized she, herself, was one of a kind. I miss her so much. We were very close, more like sisters for she was only 16 when she had me. Oh, how I miss her so. Her death was sudden, no time to say goodbye...

    Annette Submitted Nov 2008
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  • This poem was made for my mum who died 17-2-2013, she was the best rose ever to walk this earth, this is such a beautiful poem, thank you so much xxxx

    Mr Chris Childerley Submitted 2/15/2014
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