The Rose
The rose will wither in the days to come
However, not the memories of where it is from.
In a vase stands tall your rose,
When it dies, I will find a book
To press its Memory for a later look,
your Precious rose will never die,
To live on, a feast for
Someone’ else’s eyes.
Written by Charles Garcia
2005
Dear Charles, there is a church near me that holds a bible on a little table just as you go inside one of the main doors, and between the pages at the front of the book is a wonderful flower pressing that looks like a clymatus, it has been there treasured for many years and strangely when I first opened up the book I had a trememdous sence of love and peace, It was kept for a lady I think by her true love right the way through the war time, Somethings really do last, Thankyou for the reminder, Love Duncan
This is a great hit...beatiful, short poem full of faith and lovely images. This poem is virtually equivalent to a valentine rose! ! Love, Nibedita Deb.
That is truly beautiful in its simplicity. I am loving your style.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Hello friend, A simple swet poem...Happy to have read it....Congrats right from my heart