Thursday, September 3, 2009


This poem was written to my Grandmother and I gave it to her along with this afghan which is made of 30 squares.


A dozen roses,
Could not give thanks,
For the love that you have given.

Yet a single rose,
So pure and sweet,
Wilts shortly after it's given.

You may dry the rose,
To a delicate state,
And display it on the wall.

An untouchable memory,
That surly will crumble,
If ever it were to fall.

So this special gift,
I give to you,
Designed with love and care.

From granddaughter to grandmother,
Thirty roses,
You may display them anywhere!

May 1999

1 comment:

Jojo said...

Beautiful afghan and the poem compliments it so well. She must be very special to receive such a wonderful gift.