tagNon-Erotic PoetryA flower still blooms

A flower still blooms


I see my Dad in my garden
Though the churchyard holds him now.
The flowers that bloom each summer
Gathered from seeds that I sow,
Come from plants that he grew and nurtured
Tenderly in a work worn hand,
Each one carefully planted
By a man that worked on the land.
No high flying job had my father
Just a shepherd with his flock,
His flowers still bloom in my garden
Sweet Jasmine and Hollyhock.

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byUnderYourSpell© 4 comments/ 3004 views/ 0 favorites

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