She was something afore she got old.
She was something, what I been told
Even in photos from not long ago
there is beauty there to behold
Something with a proud air,
never jaded, but debonaire.
My mother, yes, she always seemed gentle and fair
A gentle rain without anyones bidding
A gentle rain, never abated
She seemed to know those things she wanted
An illustrious life so celebrated
A place where always it felt like home
Where everyone loves to come and go.
Now I know her body has gone away,
I watched her mind turn shades of grey
Somehow it got lost to an unknown day
Then finally her body got swept away
Like ashes to the wind
Familiar ashes you know...they had once been.
Before her thoughts became concealed
Where the darkness begins to brood
When she didn't seem to have a care
Like something that hinders your love for thee
where regrets and sadness begin to loom.
Yet something else was there for her
Among the flowers and the trees
Yet something else setting her free
Where colours strong and bright
As a butterfly's wings
Gave her vision with hope and light
Where the flowers never fade
growing in the gentle rain
There was something, a part of her
Like a gentle rain without anyones bidding
A gentle rain never abated
Something there, with a proud air
Never jaded but debonaire
A place where there's always been a home
Where everyone loves to come and go
I know she's gone but I'm still here
I come and go in search of that place.
Even though.

Among the flowers everywhere
You pick the ones you want to share
Give them to the ones you love
...and leave some for the butterflies.