Pink peonies and memories,
They both can be so sweet.Especially when there’s a place
Where both are bound to meet.
Mom used to love her peonies,
Their fluffy, fragrant blooms.
She’d pick a few to scatter through
Her house’s many rooms.
She’d leave many there in their beds,
And some she’d even share
With neighbors who stopped by to chat.
There were enough to spare.
But she’s not here to see them now,
For earth has set her free,
So I now bring home peonies
In my mom’s memory.
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