Cradled In Love Poem by Dorothy (Alves) Holmes

Our baby's garden is filled with flowers,
Every year becoming more beautiful.
He was 6 months old when we laid him to rest,
So tiny, in the velvet bunting, trimmed in lace,
We wrapped him in, dampened by our tears.

The operation was to have saved him but it did not,
His little heart did not respond and slowly each
Vital organ in his tiny body shut down.
We were all devastated.
It is hard to believe he would be in his 18th year now,
Big and strong we say when we talk about him.

His garden blooms year round, with pink azela in spring with
Irises in every color...columbine in purple, coreposis in star laced
Yellow, Miss Bradshaw in red and verbena in blue-purple all
Through summer with marigolds, moss roses and lambs ear filling in.
In autumn, autumn joy with white caps at first then deep rose,
Strong and succulent.
You should see the beautiful December roses!

Crepe Myrtles in white, pink, red, and purple, fill every corner in
the garden and there is a plastic teddy bear standing near the swing
He loved us to take him to, swinging just enough to rock him to sleep.
We visit the garden often, where the long stretch of lawn in the rear
Of the house, beckoned to have the garden placed.

We called him "Mister Baby", so precious and so beautiful...even now,
It is hard to believe he is not running in and out of our doors. Any
Greatgrandparent would feel the same I know. We bought a large
Butterfly balloon when we went to visit him, just after the operation.
Making grand plans to bring him home in a few days.

So much excitement, the waiting room packed with family and friends.
Then we received the news he had expired.
Every hug, every shoulder, every embrace, and that balloon, all dampened by our tears.



Dorothy Alves Holmes
Singing a Sad Song