My Mother

My grandmother, Dorothy Gold Wallace, wrote this poem sometime during the 1920's. She was probably between ten and thirteen years old. I'm posting it as is, including the misspellings. My twin sister Karin has the original. The picture is of my grandparents on their wedding day, August 22, 1933.

A blessed Mother's Day to all you moms!

My Mother

The Rose is so sweet and beautiful
Tis the rose that's always worn
It's smell is so delishious -
But where is the rose without a thorn?

The Violet is tiny and wild and shy
The most delicate flower made
It's color is the rich and royal purple
But where is the violet that will not fade?

The dandelion is like the sun
It scaters afar its seed
It is the first to come in Spring
But where is the dandelion that is not a weed?

The pansy stands always for joy
It holds it's head up high
It far surpasses all the flowers
But where is the pansy that can not die?

Ah I know a rose and a violet
A dandelion and pansy too
That has no thorns and always is
True ah oh! so true.

She has the roses loveliness
She has the violets grace
She has the dandelion's heart of gold
And the pasys smilling face.

But she has no thorns to prick us
Nor has she any weed
She scatters afar her kindness
As the dandelion scatters it's seed.

Do not ask me who she is
You must know I'm sure?
She is my Mother darling
So sweet so kind and so pure.

D.W.

(What she didn't realize when she wrote that, is that she was describing my mother, her future daughter as well, which speaks to the character and sweetness that she instilled in my mother. I love you Mother!)