The Rose

Written June 4, 1998

The dead of winter 'round me swirls
As I'm walking down the path
To the warmth of my home and fireplace's glow
And perhaps a hot bubble bath.

I stroll past the rose bush that sits by my door
And notice that one tiny bud
Is struggling for life on that bleakly cold day
From out of the stiffly cold mud.

I pause in my meander to stare at this miracle
Of winter and to ponder for a while
The the Mysteries of this little rose
Then slowly I begin to smile.

I hurry into the house to retrieve my garden clippers
And return hastily lest I should be too late
I carefully cut the stem away
And save the rose from a cold and dark fate

I carry it lovingly into the house
And place it into my favorite vase
I notice immediately the heavenly scent
That begins to fill up this place.

The rose, it is our love, my dear
Struggling to survive in life
Boldly putting forth it's face
Where no other could withstand the strife.

And if properly cared for, my love
The rose can bloom into something more
Showing the strength and determination
That brighten our love's door.

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E-mail me at:SmileyCarli@yahoo.com