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