27 August
Her mother had said the rose of sharon marked the end of summer
and now she knew that it was true.
it was at the old house that she had said it
there the rose of sharon grew at the end of the driveway and was white
or such a shade of pale pink it was hardly even pink at all
this year she noticed the rose of sharon was purple
and remembered about the poem she had read back then about the old lady that shall wear purple
would it be like that for her mother
now that she was getting older
now that she was more than a pale shade of it
more than the pink you could hardly see
do other girls feel their mother's aging like
rose of sharon
and remember the words that they heard once
in their mother's garden
and now she knew that it was true.
it was at the old house that she had said it
there the rose of sharon grew at the end of the driveway and was white
or such a shade of pale pink it was hardly even pink at all
this year she noticed the rose of sharon was purple
and remembered about the poem she had read back then about the old lady that shall wear purple
would it be like that for her mother
now that she was getting older
now that she was more than a pale shade of it
more than the pink you could hardly see
do other girls feel their mother's aging like
rose of sharon
and remember the words that they heard once
in their mother's garden
Oh my. This nearly brought on tears, perhaps because as I age I see more and more of my mother in everything I do - every movement seems to mimic her, and it serves to remind me how much she's missed. This is wonderful poem.
ReplyDeleteThank you again for your kind comments on my recent poem.
*sigh* Such a lovely post. xo
ReplyDeleteThis is gorgeous!
ReplyDeleteBeautiful!
Thanks for sharing.
Hope to see you on my blog:)
Beautiful and moving post.
ReplyDeletethere is a warmth to this...to the memory of the mom and the thoughts of her as she ages...and even us in the equation with that as well...
ReplyDeleteLovely, moving words. Now I will look at my rose of Sharon a bit differently.
ReplyDeleteBeautiful shot and touching words.
ReplyDeleteSuch a beautiful post. Words and snap. I had a rose of sharon bush at my last house and I do miss it. Thank you so much for popping in to see my little dolls.
ReplyDeleteBe a sweetie,
Shelia ;)
Thank you for visiting my blog today. The photo is lovely and the poem complements the image.
ReplyDeleteBeautiful.
ReplyDeleteNice to meet you.
Such a beautiful post and warm my heart reading!
ReplyDeleteBeautiful photo and post... love that all of nature is a metaphor to life.
ReplyDeleteAbsolutely beautiful. One of the first things I planted at my home 20 years ago were rose of sharon's lining the backyard. I love them.
ReplyDeleteThat brought tears to my eyes. I do miss my mom, and I feel myself aging as well. I wonder often what my daughters see...
ReplyDeleteBeautiful photo, beautiful words. Thank you for sharing.
Kathi @ oakhillhomestead.com
Lovely and loving post.
ReplyDeleteThis made me cry. I completely identify with this girl's struggles as she watches her mother's pinks turn to purples.
ReplyDeleteBeautiful words, so fitting to your beautiful image. Thank you.
ReplyDeleteGorgeous photo, wise words to reflect upon.
ReplyDeleteOh...it was just one year ago that my Mother was diagnosed with the cancer would take her life last fall.... Michelle
ReplyDeleteBeautiful words and image
ReplyDeleteso pretty...
ReplyDeleteLovely photo and lovely thoughts.
ReplyDeleteSo beautiful.
ReplyDeleteMother has been gone fifteen years and sometimes I still pick up the phone to call her. Treasure her.