Two flowers bloomed in a garden
Now withered and gone away,
Yet their fragrance and beauty remain
Neither troubled by decay.
Their fragrance caresses our noses
Their beauty is still our delight
And though they lie in yonder cemetery
They are never out of our sight.
They are always in our memory
As we recall their feathery touch
And none of their offspring could deny
That they have given us much.
I am sure you would want to know
The names of these flowers two,
I am only too eager to facilitate this
As grateful children would do.
One was a Rose of rare beauty
The other, a Violet unique,
Both of them were of July vintage
And bloomed on neighboring streets.
They bloomed for ninety-two years
Though having expired at different times,
Five years apart to be more precise
The Violet following behind.
Rose and Violet, there you have it,
Mothers of my wife and I,
And though their petals have disappeared
Their memory will never die.
Our hearts ache at their passing
But their memory soothes our pain,
Their families have been knitted together
While their legacy remains.
Rose and Violet, though different
Are still very much alike,
Mothers in Zion and beyond
Still filling our memory with delight.
Wonderful examples of parenting
Of an excellence that far surpasses duty,
Today and always we celebrate them
Two flowers of rarest beauty.
Stewart Russell © April 8, 2021
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