Olga Marie Colquitt

If roses grow in Heaven, Lord,

Please pick a bunch for me.

Place them in my Mother’s arms

And tell her they’re from me.

Tell her that I love and miss her,

And when she turns to smile,

Place a kiss upon her cheek,

And hold her for a while.

Because remembering her is easy,

I do it everyday,

But there’s an ache within my heart

That will never go away.