Mom, A Rose
By Ladybug
Mom, A Rose A Mom's love is like a rose enduring each one of those pesky bugs Withering away all pests with thorns Repelling the little critters from the storm First, are the blooms that come Unfolding each leaf and new petal Till the sweet smell of fragrance arises Just like our Mom's love Held in their eye is a brand new bud, full of grace blossoming full of pride Her love is the color red Ever enduring pesky bugs life brings Withering away in thistle and thorns Just like our Mom's love Guarding the safety of her child A private grace she holds us dear The rose is the flower of perfection, The same as our mother's love. Copyright 5/95 Tamara Baker To: Betty, one of the finest women I know Happy birthday 2002There is no love as special as our Mother's love. Written November 29th, 2001 © on Mar 21 2002 11:56 AM PST, Tamara White Pepper 18 • 0 • 8
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"Mom, A Rose..."