Tuesday, 20 May 2008

In Loving Memory of my Beautiful Grandma Rose

Think of a Rose, and what do you see?
Many pretty petals,
All soft as silk
And blessedly vibrant in colour.

Can you smell her wonderful scent?
Can you touch her silky softness?
Can you hear her sway in the breeze?
What colour is YOUR Rose?

Our senses and our memories,
Store many wonderful gifts.
Reminders of beauty and happiness.
And of lazy, hazy days gone by.

Our Rose is stored very carefully in our memories.
She stays there for when we need her.
Her memory makes us smile,
As her hand as soft as silky petals, gently touches ours.

Take those precious memories of your Rose,
And share them with others, everywhere you go.
In the Garden of Love, keep her alive, and vibrant,
And her many fragranced petals fresh.

In all our gardens, the Rose obeys the seasons.
Her life depends on change, sunshine, rain and love.
Loving the roots of the rose is to love the Rosebud that dies,
And this great love feeds and nurtures our hearts and minds.

Our pretty, vibrant Rose isn’t gone,
She’s there, when you want her, in our hearts and minds.
Bless her.