|
Rememberance |
|
|
Rememberance |
|
My uncle had a garden When I was just a child, I spent happy hours there Standing at his side, Watching while he worked there With his trowel and hoe, He taught me so many things, I soon got to know, The names of all the flowers In that little plot, And a poem about a flower, Forget-me-not. Many years have gone since then, My uncle passed away, And with him went the poem He taught me that day. I tried hard to remember But sadly, I forgot, The words to that sweet poem, Forget-me-not. Though I have tried to find it, It seems that no-one knows, The writer of that poem Or how the poem goes. Especially as summer comes I think of it a lot, When I see in my garden, Forget-me-not. If I meet with my uncle In a heavenly land, I know there'll be a garden Where he will take my hand. And once again he'll teach me The poem I forgot, About the small blue flower. Forget-me not. |
|
Note: Since writing this poem I have traced the original poem that inspired it, only to find that the author is Anonymous. The photograph at the top of this page is copyright and appears by kind permission of Rene Brinster. |