... Here is a Poem I wrote a few years ago dedicated to my Rose...she is really doing great.
10-30-1993
The day is gray and windy, and the maple says to the oak-
when the morning glory dies, then so shall I
The leaves they fall, blown into the wind-
crying out the summers' end. Shards of sunlight break thru the clouds-
giving hope of warmth to the shriveling shrouds.
The morning Glorys' blue trumpet still sings its' song--- good-bye my friend , but not for long.
winter comes slowly, but disappears fast--and then I can stretch and bloom at last.
Debra Carson
