The scent of love is in it flowery from the storms of life... But can you do anything else? to cover beauty of the flower who is motherly love? In the soul... An oasis of silence where eternal peace reigns This is where the memories come in of the character painted with the hand of love. You are infinity... In the world of imagination... Like a butterfly which every year on the same day stands on my hand. The day your mom left to the heights leaving the scent of a rose not to remind you of your presence. You did not say goodbye just took it the most beautiful dress of wishes and went... Your character remained in the reflection of my childhood... I carry you mother, I take you everywhere with me... Like a bright shadow in the iris in my eye... Death can not to win love of one child which he desires
the touch of the mother's hand.
© Gordana Andonovska Macedonia (Most Distinguished Female Poet)