Tuesday, 26 January 2016

Roses



I met her early,
On a bright July summer day,
A rose in her hair.

I love you she said.
The doctor hands me the sheet.
Cold she sleeps tonight.

The past in a bud,
The garden packed with roses
In her memory.

2 comments:

  1. This is lovely the way you've connected these three verses...I especially like the imagery of the last one. That line "the past in a bud" could be read different ways...I think of a life "nipped in the bud" too soon, the (past) love expressed through a gift of flowers, the rose in her hair, all sorts of stuff. Nice.

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  2. This is my favorite piece so far. Believe it or not, I like the cheesy love stories more than the dark stuff.

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