Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, VIOLETS FOR MOTHER, by IRMA BIDDLE IMHOFF


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

VIOLETS FOR MOTHER, by                    
First Line: The flowers I bring you grew not under glass
Last Line: It's of your virtues that these flowers sing.
Subject(s): Flowers; Mothers; Violets


The flowers I bring you grew not under glass,
Their beauty is for all who would care to see,
That's why they seem so very dear to me,
Their sweetness is not for a certain class.

They bloom on hill and valley, field and dale
Go where you will you'll find them everywhere.
You fain would find a flower that's more fair
Than these -- I bring you violets from the dale.

This lovely sweet and modest little flower
Reminds me of yourself, O Mother mine,
You care not if they're clad in garments fine,
Your sweetness is for all -- that is your power.

And so, dear Mother, take these gifts I bring
It's of your virtues that these flowers sing.





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