Your Little Yellow Rose

1 Comments

Tags:
  • Love

    Poem Commentary

    December 17, 2006 was the day my uncle didn't come home from Renal Dialysis. He had passed out from low blood pressure. we received a call from the dialysis unit saying he was being airlifted to Gunderson Luthren Hospital in La Crosse Wisconsin. My mom and brothers went there to find the doctor diagnosing him with terminal liver cancer. Said if he stopped his dialysis treatments that he would live for about 2 weeks. If he continued his treatment he would live for about 3 months. on April 12, 2007, at 11:07 pm Uncle Sonny graduated into God's Glory and met his Creator. I wrote this poem for My Beloved Uncle three years later. Rest in Paradise, Sir, I love you and will always be your little yellow rose.

    Your Little Yellow Rose

    As the days slip by, you wonder where time went. All that hard work and all the monsy spent.
    I was so small, so tiny in this world. I was your baby, I was your little girl.
     Your image is changing, your hair is turning gray, you find another wrinkle that wasn't there the other day.
    I stood on your toes to dance,for you had a much bigger stride, than I .
    You asked me how much I loved you, I said "this much" with my arms open wide.
    You used to hold me in your arms. You'd read me a book. Everyone would always say I had my daddys atttude,
    and I used to say "yeah right," but  now that your gone I simply say thank you,
    for now I see that it was who you were that made me who I am today.
    Mama gave the wings to fly, but you were the wind that I flew on.
    I knew the time was passing but time with you was well spent.  
    For I would give everything I own today just to see you again.
    I tried so hard to make time stand still, for I wanted you to know,
    I love you and always will. I was your Yellow Rose and you were my miracle grow.
    You love was a door left open, and was never hidden or hard to find.
    If you were here today to ask me how much I love you, I would have say as far as
    the east is from the west, with my arms open wide.
    As time slips by, as days turn into months and months into years,
    please dont worry because you know I always have been and always will be your
    little girl and little yellow rose.


    I love you Uncle Sonny. Even though you werent my "father" I always wanted you to be,
    for it was you that called me daughter. You taught me to cook and to ride a bike.
    You helped me with my homwork and only wanted the best for me. You never complained,
    when I didn't do something right, you simply tried to see what the problem was
    and helped me to do the best I could to fix it. I never felt like I wasent good enough for you,
    because you loved me unconditionally and it showed. I would give all I have to today just to see you again,
    for it was you that I tired so hard for and you always knew that I did my best. Now that you are gone,
    I stand by the ocean and cry because it is the only place where my tears feel small and insignificant.
    But I dont cry because you are gone, I cry because I know you are in a better place than I.
    How long must I wait to be with you. How long before I understand why you had to go.
    I close my eyes and I see your face. If homes where my heart is then I am in the wrong place.
    I say a prayer and wonder if I will ever know. I have never been more home sick than now.
    In Christ there are no good byes and that is why I didnt say goodbye when you left,
    instead I said "I will see you again Sir even if i dont know when."
    I will always love you and be your Little Yellow Rose.

    Poem Comments

    (1)

    Please login or register

    You must be logged in or register a new account in order to
    leave comments/feedback and rate this poem.

    Login or Register

    LadyLuck commented on Your Little Yellow Rose

    04-18-2010

    awww!! that is tooo cute and so sad! I'm getting off here to go cry. It doesnt help that my grandma just died a short while ago not even 2 weeks yet omg now im ranting srry good job

    Poetry is finer and more philosophical than history; for poetry expresses the universal, and history only the particular.

    Aristotle (384 BC-322 BC) Greek philosopher.

    heatheramy5’s Poems (11)

    Title Comments
    Title Comments
    My One My All 0
    With me Everywhere! 0
    Your Little Yellow Rose 1
    Always Here and There 2
    Someone who Cares 3
    God Knows 3
    Mama 1
    Here is Pain There is Love 2
    Why did Jesus Die? 3
    She doesn't see 2
    Jesus Saves 2