Memoir Of a Rose

"...A rose has a magic in itself, love it, live it."

I remember the day I saw her,
A babe in her mother's arm, sleeping,
As I sat adorning her table.

She grew into a maiden, a beauty,
And my fragrance covered her body,
And as a loving touch I danced with her.

I was gifted to her with a kiss,
And her lips impressed upon me,
As she embraced the man, her lover.

Its her marriage, and she walks down the aisle,
Timid and shy, her cheeks blush up, as of a princes,
And she holds onto me, as I sit embedded in her bouquet.

She grows old with her man,
With promises to live and die together,
I sit by her bed, with the card, in her sickness.

She is long gone, bidding farewell to the earth,
He wipes the tear, that has wet his cheeks,
And places me by her side, as he walks away.

I lay there by her side, for a new beginning,
I lay there unmoved, as she is lowered down.
To be one with the earth, where she would rest for ever.