Rod Butterworth, Rochdale
The little boy was only four
And picking flowers with the girl next door
And Tommy called her Josie,
A passing women said to Tom,
“Girls like to know who flowers are from
So give the girl a posy.”
Years later they were still good friends,
On Valentine’s Day a young man sends
Some flowers to who he fancies,
Tommy still liked Josie the best
And sent some flowers, no-name he guessed
She’d know they were Tom’s advances.
University kept them years apart
But each knew of the other’s heart
And there would be a wedding,
So when it happened, on the day
Where flowers-a-plenty all to say
Much love where life was heading.
So on it went, year on year on
A family born and raised and gone
With flowers at every stage
Both now old and telling stories
Of their failings and their glories,
An indulgence of old age.
It started with a little posy
Given by Tom to a girl called Josie
Long before they were seven,
Now there’s a grave and a headstone named
A spray of flowers, the message the same,
And it’s known who from in heaven.