To The Matriarch of Roses
She played to our heartstrings like an angel played the harp
Subtle softness; delicate fingers that touched with a loving spark-
Eyes of azure blue; full like the sky- lacking peril, so alive...
She was our future- The queen of our start
No word or phrase can begin to encompass her part,
just the notion to love all and strive...
To become a better person- Her honor spoke, a hark-
We listened- her voice, the harp
Velvety charms; a smile-
Quid pro quo, an embrace to stay awhile-
A legacy forged from her divine grace-
She, the saint of Rose Place-
A mother; grandmother- A sister; a wife...
May she bask in eternal light-
May she hear our loving cries-
Deep inside these eyes, the same blue...
With all the memories we cherish.
We know her as wise and true-
May the birds sing you to sleep
May the fireflies shine bright
To the Matriarch of Roses, that we love with our life.