Flowers are bright and beautiful,
So wondrous to behold;
They speak of joy and thoughtfulness,
Of tender love, untold.
They whisper things our mortal tongues
Find difficult to speak;
They mend the tiny crevices
Of hearts about to break.
They are so fragile and so tender
That they remind me of
All the wives of bygone years,
Whom men have learned to love.
And, of my very own sweet wife,
For whom I truly care,
Yet sometimes, through a hasty word,
I've caused her heart to tear.
Far too oft men fail to think
Of the joy a flower might bring,
And cause the loved one, deep to drink
Of it's loveliness and sing.
For, deep within her lonely heart
She seeks assurance, true,
And, when she knows you really care,
Within her heart she'll sing of you.
God fashioned flowers so beautiful,
Some more rugged, some very tender;
If, by giving them, we are dutiful,
We'll also find them a wonderful mender.
By L. B. Strawn
January ?, 1976