Just Writing

Love And Roses

Love and Roses

She said it to me as she sipped at her cup
Drinking in raspberry vines
We sat on the stone overlooking the wood
The trees were passing and bright

I looked at her face with its eyes bright blue
Deep in the question she tried
She spoke of the time when the great roses fade
“Where do they go when they die?”

“The crumble away underneath every flake
Beneath a cover of snow
And we sit and we look at a world pure white
Never knowing where they go.”snow rose

“The roses?” Spoke I, in a jumble of thought.
“My dear, why do you cry?”
“Yes, roses.” Pressed she, so wanting me to know
“Where do they go when they die?”

I want to say what would make her alright
What would calm her crying heart
But she sat on stone overlooking the wood
As if it might break apart

The colors of autumn were ripe in her hair
Her eyes were a harvest moon
I tried to comfort her, though it did no good
For roses would die so soontomb

“In the springtime we’ll see the world fresh and new
And all will be bright and rare
The world will be green and the foxes will play
New roses will bloom so fair

But here we have autumn: the end of the year
And everything is ripe
Why is it, my dear: all is so brilliant
When it is about to die?

This question of mine, though perhaps it is strange,
Pulls so dearly at my soul
I never did think of the beautiful things
How could I have been so cold?”Rose

“My dear, my sweet darling, listen to my words
And believe all that I say
Where things do not die in a place very fair
Go roses when gone away.

And one day we’ll have a lovely little girl
Autumn colors in her hair
And if she does ask us the very same thing
We’ll speak of this place so fair.”

We walked hand in hand among the red roses
Surrounded by autumn vines
And the question she asked sunk deep in my heart:
So fragile, and yet, so bright

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