Viola
Violets grow in vibrant purple hues
flourishing in pinks and blues
cheerful in a place of sorrow
mocking the solemnity of the cold grey stones
echoing the spirit of the woman
laid to rest beneath the blooming colors
for her spirit and vitality
cannot be snuffed out by death
she has become more vibrant
than the flowers whose name she wore
with the elegance and beauty
befitting a flower of God.
Rest in Peace, Grandma, I miss you.
Copyright © Trudy Diane Rider | Year Posted 2009
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