The Eternal Rose
On the roller-coaster of life you often don’t know whether you are going up or coming down. That is how I felt some 26 years ago. Then I met and fell in love with a beautiful girl. Before I married her I wrote her this poem:
firm, like the breast a young girl knows
before she turns into a belle,
before this turns into a rose.
The very breath of life is there
shimmering pink from head to toes.
And purest when the breast is bare
and humblest when it’s just a rose.
Full bloom, the open petals seem
so like a mouth, do you suppose
it’s really such a silly dream
to think that one might kiss a rose?
The Summer sunshine stirs my heart.
A Longing Love my look bestows.
I know that I can never part
from her or from my wondrous rose.
But Autumn brings its quiet decline.
The days draw in to early close.
And must I lose this love of mine
and must I lose my lovely rose?
Next year, perhaps, the April rain
will bring another bud, who knows?
Another love to bring more pain?
Or, best of all, another rose?
And shall I always look in vain
for love so deep it flows and shows?
No, I need never seek again.
God gave me an Eternal Rose.