Yellow Roses
(dedicated to my son, Gregory Douglas Turner, 1969-1992)

Here are roses
Big yellow roses
Pretty and thornless
Like you gave me years ago
Together we planted those yellow roses
On my birthday
Son, how you glowed
I remember you said:
"Momma, here's roses
Pretty and thornless."
But your hands, Son, were in shreds
You watered the petals
Of those big roses
With tears shed removing thorns
Son, here are roses
Big yellow roses
Pretty and thornless
Like you gave me years ago
I bring you roses
On my birthday
See, they've grown
Remember those roses
Big yellow roses
Pretty and thornless
Like you gave me years ago
Together we planted those yellow roses
On my birthday
Son, how you glowed
I remember you said:
"Momma, here's roses
Pretty and thornless."
But your hands, Son, were in shreds
Together we've watered
Those yellow roses
With tears we've both shed
Remember those roses
Big yellow roses
Pretty and thornless
That you gave me
years ago . . .

This poem is dedicated to my only son, Gregory Douglas Turner, who was murdered in Xenia, Ohio on Dec. 3, 1992--shot three times, attacked 14x's with an ax (the first blow split his head down the center to his neck killing him instantly), then decapitated and buried in the backyard of his murderer for several months. Doug was 23.
This is one of the poems in my book, "A Little Hope" published in June, 2001