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





Comments

  1. Misky27 August 2013 at 06:00

    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.

    Thank you again for your kind comments on my recent poem.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Nancy27 August 2013 at 06:37

    *sigh* Such a lovely post. xo

    ReplyDelete
  3. Sanghamitra Bhattacherjee(Mukherjee)27 August 2013 at 06:42

    This is gorgeous!
    Beautiful!
    Thanks for sharing.
    Hope to see you on my blog:)

    ReplyDelete
  4. Anonymous27 August 2013 at 08:11

    Beautiful and moving post.

    ReplyDelete
  5. Brian Miller27 August 2013 at 08:39

    there 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...

    ReplyDelete
  6. EG CameraGirl27 August 2013 at 09:02

    Lovely, moving words. Now I will look at my rose of Sharon a bit differently.

    ReplyDelete
  7. Carver27 August 2013 at 09:14

    Beautiful shot and touching words.

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  8. Anonymous27 August 2013 at 09:31

    Such 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.
    Be a sweetie,
    Shelia ;)

    ReplyDelete
  9. Kate27 August 2013 at 09:43

    Thank you for visiting my blog today. The photo is lovely and the poem complements the image.

    ReplyDelete
  10. Jim27 August 2013 at 10:15

    Beautiful.
    Nice to meet you.

    ReplyDelete
  11. ~✽Mumsy✽~27 August 2013 at 11:14

    Such a beautiful post and warm my heart reading!

    ReplyDelete
  12. Catherine27 August 2013 at 12:51

    Beautiful photo and post... love that all of nature is a metaphor to life.

    ReplyDelete
  13. pam27 August 2013 at 16:08

    Absolutely 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.

    ReplyDelete
  14. Kathi27 August 2013 at 16:13

    That brought tears to my eyes. I do miss my mom, and I feel myself aging as well. I wonder often what my daughters see...

    Beautiful photo, beautiful words. Thank you for sharing.
    Kathi @ oakhillhomestead.com

    ReplyDelete
  15. Pat27 August 2013 at 18:27

    Lovely and loving post.

    ReplyDelete
  16. ❁27 August 2013 at 18:32

    This made me cry. I completely identify with this girl's struggles as she watches her mother's pinks turn to purples.

    ReplyDelete
  17. Carmel27 August 2013 at 20:09

    Beautiful words, so fitting to your beautiful image. Thank you.

    ReplyDelete
  18. Stacy27 August 2013 at 20:45

    Gorgeous photo, wise words to reflect upon.

    ReplyDelete
  19. Rambling Woods27 August 2013 at 21:08

    Oh...it was just one year ago that my Mother was diagnosed with the cancer would take her life last fall.... Michelle

    ReplyDelete
  20. Susie Clevenger28 August 2013 at 03:12

    Beautiful words and image

    ReplyDelete
  21. Sofia28 August 2013 at 09:46

    so pretty...

    ReplyDelete
  22. Prairie Jill28 August 2013 at 13:49

    Lovely photo and lovely thoughts.

    ReplyDelete
  23. Gail12 December 2014 at 18:15

    So beautiful.

    Mother has been gone fifteen years and sometimes I still pick up the phone to call her. Treasure her.

    ReplyDelete

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