Snipping Away The Wilted

With gratitude for what was given me,
I snip the wilted blooms from the bouquet,
a sparse but freshened beauty I can see,
with perky hue to last another day.

A day is given me, just one, to fill,
with loving things that I can think or do,
be open to the Father's love and will,
extend the warmth I feel to special you.

A garment or a little toy, I'd make,
if I had time to fashion it with care,
a comforting massage to soothe the ache,
a smile to say that I am glad you're there.

It's not so much, but trimmed and gently kept,
the posies last much longer than I'd guess,
though covertly droop when unaware we slept,
we preserve their beauty with a wee success.