In my garden spring awaits
A black rose harbored in thorns
An Angel died that must be mourned
Surrounded this artist by her talents
Her own hand painted carousel horses
Immemorial I will plant the midnight strain
It will be that of the trumpet Lilly
Aphids, White-flies,grubs beware
for the Praying Mantis lingers there
I leave now two Angels guarding heaven
Mom,loving Jesus, now my sis Jeri in your care
A Mother, a loving wife, in her youth she dared
to race and win a trophy in a "B" altered coupe
racing car. Standing in her Blondie beauty in
front of her husbands car, hers and his trophies
in front. She loved, Elvis, drawing horses, a cartoonist
in a famous back east newspaper. In her later years
painting Carousel horses from those I would find
in garage sales and bring to her. Miss her miss her art.
This poem is to be published in the Best poems and poets
0f 2007
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