The Flower Garden. by Ollie Owl.

Too often we worry about things we can't change and never
worry about the things that we can change. The following poem
I wrote mainly to honor my mother, who was always there when she
was needed. A person who always thought of others before she
thought of herself.

She planted a flower garden,
In the early spring;
When the osprey soar,
And the robins sing;

Pretty carnations and marigolds,
Planted all in a row;
She planted red roses,
And watched them grow;

Every morning she cultivated it,
With her lovely delicate hands;
Until she succumbed one day,
From all of life's demands;

Most of the flowers lived,
Some we could not save;
I picked the fresh ones,
And placed them on her grave;

I planted a flower garden,
In the early spring;
When the osprey soar,
And the robins sing;