Mother, I picked these just for you
From the many in my garden.
Did I ever give you roses in life?
If I didn't, I beg your pardon.     
       
You gave me a rose 'most every day
From the time that I was born.
Your guidance, love and compassion
Were roses without thorns.

When I was young, I don't remember a time
When flowers were presented to you;
Or a special, homemade birthday cake
And a party in honor of you.

You always put your family first,
Did without, never hesitated.
Our many needs, you always met.
I wonder if we appreciate it.

So, Mother, on this your birthday
A small token of love I convey.
I know that you can see them
And enjoy this humble bouquet.

Kathleen McCoy Eldridge©
August 26, 2005
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