Gifted red roses
Of full red fragrant blossoms
Reborn into dry potpourri
Displayed in square-glass vases
To fill every room
With the lingering smell
And sweet fragrance
Of April’s loving memory
❤️
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marshmallow trampoline sky 
Love this short poem! My mother always makes potpourris in my childhood home.
Kathrin — http://mycupofenglishtea.wordpress.com
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My mother used to dry flowers all the time for potpourri and wreaths. She was always creating something with her hands. I have lovingly followed in her footsteps. Miss her deeply. Your mom has to be proud of you and your accomplishments, what you have become.
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That’s awesome. My mom showed me how to dry flowers in elementary school. Her boyfriend gives her roses, and she never wants to throw them away so she dries them.
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thx!
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