By Norma (Twi1ite@sbcglobal.net)
So precious is the purple violet,
Yes, “Sweeter than all the roses,”
In a little boy’s pudgy hand,
A song to his mother’s heart.
A song that has baked many cookies,
And brought down nostalgic tears,
For isn’t he growing tall and strong,
Where have gone the years?
Some little boys stop growing,
Stunted by broken hearts,
Still, I think, they hold sweet violets unknowing,
In mothers’ secret remembrances.