Norman

T'was but a few short months ago

My dear son was taken from me,

But it seems so very long ago

Almost eternity.

He was a tiny bud

Growing among the bowers

On a slender swaying stem

With seven other flowers.

When the reaper came that day

He saw that sweet, small bud

It looked so frail and lovely

That he took it up above.

And when grief stricken I did weep

To see him lain beneath the sod

"Be still, weep not" He sayeth

"And know that I am God"

Now although our circle's broken

And his presence gladdens us no more

In my heart he'll linger

Now and forever more.

And each night I kneel to pray

It seems I hear God say

"I needed that