FORGET-ME-NOT
Poem by Theresa von Wullenweber, Age 19

I would love to play the poet today,
but I fear I will not be able to say
what lies on my heart. Instead you will hear
from a tiny flower that God begot.
It speaks without words: "Justine dear,
Forget-me-not!"

When you stroll in lovely gardens, caught
by their beauty; or simply stand lost in thought;
or, when perhaps you even find
that I myself come to mind, -
remember the flower and what it represents
(in its modest magnificence).

When your heart is stirred
by music, or when memories that time has blurred
(break free and flow like a river) -
recall the flower with its worldess word
and the fondness of its faraway giver.

And when you kneel reverently in prayer,
put in a word for me then and there. -
Yes, tiny flower in your shaded spot,
like you, Therese says today: "Forget-me-not!"