Linda Marie Van Tassell (Lynchburg, Virginia)

Night blossoms black on the tide of sleep
in costive silence above the grave.
The roses bleed, but I will not weep.

My love is now gone beyond my keep,
but I am forevermore his slave.
Night blossoms black on the tide of sleep.

The panoplies of memories sweep,
being threaded from the love he gave.
The roses bleed, but I will not weep.

The vines of time meander and creep,
coiling around as though to enslave.
Night blossoms black on the tide of sleep.

Immortal beloved, sleeping deep,
your heart was both laudable and brave.
The roses bleed, but I will not weep.

Instead, I choose my memories reap
of the love that no distance can stave.
Night blossoms black on the tide of sleep.
The roses bleed, but I will not weep.