I wanted to buy you a bright red Porche,

a diamond ring, an Arab horse

but all I have to give is love

and this I give with all my heart.

 

For twenty years a plant may grow.

A little flower thats pure and white.

Sometimes it’s petals wither and fade.

sometimes the dew like diamonds shine.

Sometimes the bloom is whole and good.

 

So do not fear the sun or frost.

Each in it’s turn will give you life.

Rejoice in other lovely blooms;

we can not be adored by all.

 

The things that last within the heart,

are worth far more than fussy fads,

that come and go in rust and death,

leaving their trash along the road.

 

Look for that tiny flower of love.

High on the mountain, bravely free.

It does not ask for more from life,

Than that which lets it give it’s best.

 

David Garlick, Victoria, Fall, 1986