As a gift, the day he died,

My dear friends gave to me

A rosebush so young and tender

Called “In Loving Memory”.

And each year on his birthday,

In the early days of June,

On Father’s day, or the day he died

Those fragile flowers bloom.

With crimson, velvet petals

Whose fragrance fills the air,

Reminding me all summer long

He’s with me, always there.

And when the summer bows its head

And autumn breezes blow,

The petals flutter to the ground

And on their journey go.

Then I must wait so long it seems

‘Till the tender rosebuds bloom,

When Mother Nature works her charm

And I smell the sweet perfume.

Yet I know the rose will bloom once more,

I’m as sure as I am me,

For I tend with care, just for my dad,

In loving memory.