I remember Mama, how her "star" displayed,
Joys for me to cherish,
And insured intimacy to nourish,
She had a boundless love, illuminating her ways.
I remember words that cured my troubled thoughts,
And hands that supplied my need.
Her love is a souvenir for me to heed.
How can I forget real love omnipotently taught?
The rose is a symbol of love without grave compare.
Only for a spell can it enhance the soul,
Or polish its depths from hurt untold.
A rose can leave me still smitten with care.
A rose is but a symbol of love's degree,
Otherwise, Mama’s love summons reality.