This free form poem was written just after I discovered that my grandfather has cancer. I know nothing of his true condition yet, but the distant thought that we might lose him has now become a close reality. Grandpa, I love you.
These roses are from my garden.
I helped them grow and bloom.
If I could I would send them to you.
But they would fade before you saw.
So, I have taken pictures of them,
and placed them up high.
The pictures will last a lifetime.
And forever speak their thousand words.
They will say that all the effort
Was worth every cut I took
Every branch carefully pruned,
Every hour spent weeding the beds
All of it is there constantly whispered,
Just waiting for someone to hear.
All of it amounts to this:
These roses are for you.
They come from my heart
Not from a garden,
Their colors radiate my sentiments.
They tell the world that I love you.