I Still Bring Her Flowers Poem by Randy McClave

I bought her flowers on her birthday
They made her happy, she would always say,
Then she would place and arrange them in a vase
Her mind took a picture, which would not erase.
She would compliment the flowers when she walked by
Sometimes I could almost see a tear in her eye,
And the days that I remember when they were tossed out;
She would almost pout.

I brought her flowers when she was sick
To make her feel better they always did the trick,
They were always placed in a vase near her bed
Sitting right next to her med.
She enjoyed touching them and scenting the rose
They brought her more pleasure than the aroma of food to her nose,
And she always got better before her flowers wilted;
A prayer of goodbye, was never guilted.

I still bring her flowers whenever that I can
No better gift to be brought and presented by a man,
With joy I still always place them in a vase beside of her
My affection and my love, it will never deter.
I remember the flowers that I brought her in the past
With smiles and kisses and hugs those memories still last,
But, now it is me the one who has to be brave;
As I now bring her flowers, to her grave.

Randy L. McClave