Once there was a rose,
Grown from farmland,
Modest, hardscrabble
Blustered early by rabble,
Wanting, then rousing
To overcome, become more.
For this rose blossomed,
Every season stronger,
In radiance and will,
Burning red then pink,
Softened by time.
Fierce beauty
With sweetness,
Always sweetness,
Forged by steel.
Now fall comes winter,
Memories remain,
Sweetness lingers
Like pecan pie.
Hearty stalks with
Deep, broad roots
Now reach beyond
The brilliant bloom
Of a Pennsylvania Rose.
Ever growing
Beyond that first bloom
From farmland.
In remembrance of Grandma Dottie Van Dyke on her funeral, Oct 20, 2014
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