Ode to Mother

You once had a beautiful garden
filled with exotic and unique flowers
but you had a favourite, 'twas big, bright and bold
and with it you would spend most your hours.

Every morning you'd rise and tend to your fave
you'd prune then you'd water and feed
you did this for years - in fact most of your life
but you did it with pleasure not just out of need.

With all things it's true, they live and they die
but they will always become something new
your garden's no different - it's withered but not gone
the gardener's still here and that's you.

You transplanted buds from your favourite bush
in other gardens around town, remember.
They're blossoming now from your nurturing and love
and you're invited to admire them forever.

Now although you're no longer an active green thumb
you will find yourself in other ways
you may not know how or with what or just when
but you will do it one of these days.

So don't ever think that you need to rush
you should have a well earned long break
with the gardens of others to admire at your will
you'll find proof that you can't and you won't make a mistake