Theres a single rose
Inside a birthday card
The rose from your funeral
Pressed in my heart
That was never sent
Nor arrived.
Its decades now
Since your death
But that rose
It still thrives
Curled and dried
Its petals a sign.
Of a love for a father
Through these passing years
Your blood, sweat
And tears
From your time
Upon this earth.
Sometimes in silent moments
I lift the card
From its box
The rose is still alive
As is my love
And my loss.
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Author:
nephilim56 ( Norman Dickson) (
Offline) - Published: March 21st, 2025 03:01
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 20
Offline)
Comments1
A poem of loss and a sad one at that. Symbols well used of a dried rose. Nicely written
many thanks. appreciated
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