In Loving Memory Poem by Jean Penner

An aged vine in a vineyard,
Grew strong in a Gardener's love,
Each day it grew in its beauty,
Through strength from the sun up above.

For years, it seems, in the vineyard,
This vine flourished in grace,
The soft, gentle touch of its branches,
Could comfort a saddening face.

The blooms it offered in Springtime,
Flowered from the Gardener's hand,
All those who cherished their beauty,
Could garden in far away lands.

The fruits of this vine were eternal,
The yieldings of love never ceased,
This aged vine in the vineyard,
Lived in its Gardener's peace.

As storms of the years passed by it,
The vine knew where it could run,
With the same gentle touch of its branches,
It climbed to the warmth of the sun.

Though the vine showed signs of aging,
The Gardener still tended with love,
He offered new life in a vineyard,
Where the sun never leaves from above.

Now in the fields of a garden,
Where life can be strong without care,
The Gardener delights in His harvest,
The prize of His garden is there.