The lawn is covered in early spring's delight,
by little floral buds of golden hue;
As children we thought they were magical,
not the yellow weeds which can conquer the view.

We'd pick them slowly till our fingers were sore,
and put them together in tiny bunches;
Then bring them to Mom as a heartfelt gift,
and Oh, how she'd fuss while serving us lunch !

They'd sit in the midst of our kitchen table,
as we watched adoringly when eating sweets,
Mother's face would shine like a new penny,
while she doled out our 'after luncheon' treats.

Back into the yard we'd soon run and play,
discovering a small patch of purple violets;
And gathering them gently into our hands,
we'd run to Mom as she came down the steps.

One doesn't need money to please those we love,
a simple gesture of kindness is always the best;
For what is truly beautiful in our short lives,
is what we hold dear in our memory's "treasure chest" !