The Flowers

I carved the stone with my own hands

To watch you as you sleep

I tend the flowers every sunday

Making sure they keep

You aways took care of the roses

Now they're taking care of you

Your grave is covered by dozens

Though I only planted a few

Rain or shine your flowers grow

While others don't survive

The way they did in your garden

Back when you were alive

Some people call it a miracle

As they come to watch them grow

But I know you feed the flowers

With the love that's in your soul

I carved the stone with my own hands

To watch you as you sleep

But when it rains it almost seems

The flowers begin to weep

Reviews

[Emily B]

there is something most tender in the hands that carve stone

[pinpen]

I really love the last stanza the best, deep powerful well written write.