Christine Natale (August 9,1955 / Glen Ridge, New Jersey)
Bed of Roses
Sleep takes us all, night after night
Some to rest and some to woe,
Until the sleep that ends in light
And takes us far from all we know.
From cradle to the marriage bed
The journey seems so long to start.
Yet fast the years fly to the ones
Who fill their bed with loving hearts.
Our love was once the bread of life
Which ending, left us whole and free.
The unity of man and wife
Became a rose-filled memory.
As the saint transformed the sacred bread
To roses round her wedding bed.
Comments about this poem (Bed of Roses by Christine Natale )
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