Debra W. Shuler
I Bring You Flowers
I bring you flowers my beautiful dove.
For I have no other way, to show my love.
As I touch this cold white marble stone
I feel helpless my child, and oh, so alone.
All I have are sweet memories, I hold close to my heart.
And the many things of which I could never part.
The pictures and keepsakes from your seventeen years
I cherish them with smiles, and sadness, and many tears.
Remembering the joy I felt, as you nuzzled against my arm.