I chatted with lovely old people today,
as I was begging for some flowers.
We could have talked for hours,
they had so much to say.
I told them of my reason,
to want the flowers, I praised,
because the only girl I raised,
had grown another season.
The tales were sweet and nice.
Not one they offered sad,
and even old, were glad
to offer wise advice.
So, I did sit and listen
to each and every story,
they told with pride and glory.
How their bright eyes did glisten.
They told of keepsakes of the mind,
and I've always had the thought,
that they were better than those bought.
Her flowers I did find.
All Simple Hands Love Everlasting Yesterdays.
05/01
