Garnished With A Flower

Each life is garnished with a flower
our loved ones smell when we die.
They smell the scent when we visit
to say our last goodbye.
We drift among them
at that fateful time
and the flowers scent
is to let our presents known.
We wish them no ill tidings
but just to let them know
that we have now joined
our lord near his heavenly throne.

31 August 2009

poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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