A Rose of White.

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A rose bush grows tall above my bedroom window sill,
last summer’s seared blooms are painful to me still.

Withered brown and wilted they slowly blow away,
as hot summer breezes waft their tears of dismay.

Spring brought on such beauty of chaste virgin white,
nature’s measure of purity if viewed in soft moonlight.

Admired by young lovers as their symbol of esteem,
petals embraced together in a deep delightful dream.

Spring was a happy season which saw us in full bloom,
happy close companions, contented in nature’s womb.

Time to part arrived though as a bush we’d barely grown,
and the poignant pain of parting was so cruelly thrown.

Wilting roses and tumbling tears, here in summer’s heat,
as you went away crying and rose petals at your feet.

I look out my window knowing, my heart will surely heal
awaiting the roses to bloom now a symbol of how I feel.

Oh! nothing will ever replace you, the person that you are,
I’ll see you framed by the widow with your favourite star.

A painting full of roses and loving words my mind weaves,
as I listen to the breezes whisper in the soft green leaves.

Sparkling stars and moonlight on a glowing soft white rose,
will bring back the special moments together that we chose.

And maybe when the parting, has healed by passing time,
we’ll again see each other in another world, another time.
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