My Thorn
You say your rose has a thorn?
Why do you not try to transpose,
And say without sorrow or scorn,
“My thorn has a beautiful rose.”
by Maude O. Cook (my grandmother)
Portland Rose
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A Fondness For Reading
…thoughts, memories, and ideas from a lifetime of reading
My Thorn
The glass half full.
That’s delightful!
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That’s beautiful! Both the saying and the photo. 🙂
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I swear I can almost smell that rose.
That’s how to look at life! Thanks so much for sharing your grandmother’s poem.
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Karen, Tanabata, and Nan–isn’t that a gorgeous rose!? We passed it when we were taking our grandson for a walk in his stroller last week, and I had to grab the camera. Portland is called “the city of roses,” and you can see why! I’m glad you enjoyed Grandma’s little poem.
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I’ve just tagged for a quick easy book meme, if you’re in the mood. No obligation though.
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I can almost hear my mother say that verse. It spoke so much of her philosopy. She looked for the best in people. The saying; “If you can’t say something nice, don’t say anything at all,” was truly her way. I don’t remember her saying it, but that is what she lived. Her love of flowers was evident to me very early in my life, as I watched her tend her flower garden in the harsh, dry soil on the dry farm. what a nice expression to remember today.
mom
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Tanabata, thanks for the tag!
Mom, when I saw the rose in Portland, I knew I had to photograph it and post it with Grandma’s poem.
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