As I step across the
ancient shores of England,
I feel such homely
rapture in the air...
for daffodils grow
elegant and golden
and grass is greener here
than anywhere.
And as I look, I see
a rose of England,
my dearest mother
with silver in her hair,
I feel her presence
evermore unfolding
and my love for her is
way beyond compare.
Joyce Hemsley
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/dearest-mother/
