Seeing that it's Mother's Day, I want to copy here a poem that my mother wrote about me when I was 3 or 4 years old. I had found a purple weed in the asparagus patch. The poem was printed in the Gospel Herald on June 4,1963.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
To a Weed
You're just a lowly, common weed
Casting forth unwanted seed
But, then, one shining, golden hour
You changed into a lovely flower.
A little girl had chanced your way,
Stooped to touch you and to pray,
"Thank-you, God, for this flower I've found."
I felt I stood on holy ground.
Weed though you may be,
Henceforth I'll touch you
reverently.
No comments:
Post a Comment