A Flower Named Rose

The lady was just all heart.

Never took much for her to laugh or cry.

She held her loved ones close,

maybe too close for all concerned.

Worried a lot about eating and sleeping,

health was wealth beyond any question,

and goodbyes were a time for grieving.

Yet she could let go when she had to.

She would cry at the sight of a cripple

but could laugh until she peed in her pants

at the comedy of every day life

or in the movies and plays of the day.

Could never say no to any request

and gave and gave and gave from an

endless reservoir of love and devotion.

She asked for nothing

never knew how to ask for anything,

a natural born caretaker,

able to enjoy every day,

ordinary days, nothing special.

Simply a Rose that never failed to blossom.

Milt Ehrlich